In Evil Long I Took Delight

Looking at the cross by John Newton


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


 * I saw One hanging on a tree,
 * In agony 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.