1 Whene’er I read the story,
I think it cannot be,
That Jesus, King of glory,
Could ever die for me;
That from His home so holy
And peaceful in the sky,
He sought a life so lowly,
That I might live on high.

2 I know I never gave Him
One half the love I ought;
I fear I do not save Him
One care or anxious tho’t;
I never can repay Him
The wond’rous debt I owe,
But if I should obey Him,
A thankful heart I’ll show.

3 I now my cares will lighten,
As down life’s path I stray;
I know each tho’t will brighten
Upon my pilgrim way;
And if I trust that Savior,
And on His word rely,
I shall awake in glory,
To live and never die.