I stood outside the gate,
A poor, wayfaring child;
Within my heart there beat
A tempest loud and wild;
A fear oppressed my soul,
That I might be too late;
And oh, I trembled sore,
And prayed outside the gate,
And prayed outside the gate.

Oh, “Mercy!” loud I cried,
“Now give me rest from sin!”
“I will,” a voice replied;
And Mercy let me in;
She bound my bleeding wounds,
And soothed my heart oppressed;
She washed away my guilt
And gave me peace and rest,
And gave me peace and rest.

In Mercy’s guise I knew
The Savior long abused,
Who often sought my heart,
And wept when I refused;
Oh! what a blest return
For all my years of sin!
I stood outside the gate,
And Jesus let me in,
And Jesus let me in.