Saw ye my Saviour? Heard ye the glad sound?
Felt ye the power of her Word?
'Twas the Truth that made man free,
And was found by you and me
In the life and the love of our Lord.
Mourner, she calls thee: "Come to my bosom;
Love wipes the tears all away,
And will lift the shades of gloom,
And for thee make blessed room
When the darkness hath yielded to-day."
Sinner, she calls thee, daring or dying;
Oh, take my offering in;
And the spirit that makes pure,
Will exalt thee, and will cure
Every sorrow, and sickness, and sin.
Strongest deliverer, friend of the friendless,
Life of all being divine:
Thou the Christ and not the creeds;
Thou the Science of good deeds;
Thou the water, the bread, and the wine.
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