Can this be grace? A sinner such as I, condemned to Hell,
Should taste of Heaven's glories and await
Not judgment, but a trip through Heaven's gate,
And naught but that bright prospect mine to tell.
Can grace be this? The joys of feasting daily with the King,
To rest upon sweet promises of life,
Though this world full of enemies is rife,
Yet I, exceeding riches now can sing.
And shall this grace, be lost upon a worthless worm defiled?
Or shall I, as a joyous bird, in flight
Within such grace, exploring such delight,
So sing, so very glad to be His child.
So, what is grace? That He who loves me now did love me then,
Before He made the world, or any men.
And sent His Son to pay the awful cost.
And called my name so I should not be lost.
Have you this grace? The Lamb who died can wash you white as snow,
And cast away your sin behind His back,
And in Himself provide your ev'ry lack.
He liveth ever, just to make it so.