In evil long I took delight,
Unawed by shame or fear,
Til a new object struck my sight,
And stopped my wild career.

I saw one hanging on a tree,
In agonies and blood,
Who fixed His languid eyes on me,
As near His cross I stood.

Sure, never to my latest breath
Can I forget that look;
It seemed to charge me with His death,
Though not a word He spoke.

My conscience felt and owned the guilt,
And plunged me in despair;
I saw my sins His blood had spilt,
And helped to nail Him there.

A second look He gave, which said:
“I freely all forgive;
This blood is for thy ransom paid;
I die that thou mayst live.”

Thus, while His death my sin displays
In all its blackest hue,
Such is the mystery of grace,
It seals my pardon too.

John Newton

Copied from my grandmother’s hymnal, Hymn Book, Methodist Episcopal Church, South: Nashville, TN, 1901, Hymn #312.

Note: The hymns in this hymnal are not titled. So when I do not know the hymn, I make up a title or simply use the first line.

Photo taken in Milton, FL, 2018

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