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.
With pleasing grief and mournful joy,
My spirit now is fill'd,
That I should such a life destroy,
Yet live by Him I kill'd.
Miraculous, thank you John Newton, a servant of the Most High Almighty Holy God and his Son, the propitiation for our sins, Jesus Christ.
The mystery of grace still follows the humanity all around. great writing
Such a great write by John Newton👍👍👍
By shame or fear! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
" Grace" , 'tis a charmimg sound. harmonius to the ear... " Grace" is only " amazing" to those who recognize their need of it.