Every one…when he looks…shall live. Numbers 21:8
There’s a voice I hear, and it calls me near
To the Savior’s bleeding side;
And it says to me,
You may now be free,
If you plunge beneath the crimson tide.
O, I’ll take another look at the cross of Calvary,
For surely He can cleanse by the precious blood;
There is purity and power,
There is victory every hour,
When we’re living ’neath the smile of God.
There is One above, looking down in love,
On a world deep sunk in sin;
And I hear Him call
To His children all:
Who will go and bring the lost ones in?
There’s a hand stretched out unto souls in doubt,
And it saves from sin and woe;
In His riven side
Is a fountain wide,
Where the vilest of the vile may go.
O the bitter cries, and the longing eyes,
That we daily hear and see;
For our love they plead,
And our help they need;
Shall we saviors of the lost ones be?
O the joy to stand on the golden strand,
Right before the great white throne;
There to meet some soul
We have helped to the goal,
And to hear the Savior say,