1 Chief of sinners though I be,
Jesus shed his blood for me,
died that I might live on high,
lives that I might never die.
As the branch is to the vine,
I am his and he is mine!

2 Oh, the height of Jesus' love,
higher than the heav'ns above,
deeper than the depths of sea,
lasting as eternity,
love that found me— wondrous thought—
found me when I sought him not.

3 Only Jesus can impart
comfort to a wounded heart,
peace that flows from sin forgiv'n,
joy that lifts the soul to heav'n,
faith and hope to walk with God
in the way that Enoch trod.

4 Chief of sinners though I be,
Christ is all in all to me;
all my wants to him are known,
all my sorrows are his own.
Safe with him in earthly strife,
I await the heav'nly life.

5 Strengthen me, O gracious Lord,
by your Spirit and your Word.
When my wayward heart would stray,
keep me in the narrow way;
grace in time of need supply
while I live and when I die.