Scripture Verse

Do not pass by Your servant. Genesis 18:3


Fanny Crosby

Words: Fan­ny Cros­by, 1868. First ap­peared in Songs of De­vo­tion, by How­ard Doane (New York: 1870).

Music: W. How­ard Doane, 1870 (🔊 pdf nwc).

W. Howard Doane


Hers was an age of evan­gel­is­tic sing­ing miss­ions, and Fan­ny Cros­by’s hymns were al­ways in re­quest. So po­pu­lar was the lit­tle po­et­ess that she was in­vited to speak at ma­ny places where these mis­sions were held.

On one occasion, it was at a state pri­son. Much was hoped for from this par­ti­cu­lar meet­ing. As Fan­ny was speak­ing—and her very blind­ness gave her pow­er—first one pri­son­er and then an­oth­er would in­ter­rupt by call­ing on the good Lord not to pass me by.

Fanny told that she was so touched by the pleas of these men that she could not get the thought of them out of her mind; in­deed she said, I wrote the lines with the men’s plead­ing wail still in my ears.

Blanchard, pp. 76–77

In a West­ern State lived an old man who was in the ha­bit of go­ing fish­ing on Sun­day af­ter­noons. Near the pond was a school­house where Sun­day School was held. Frequently they sang, Pass Me not, O Gen­tle Sav­iour, dur­ing the af­ter­noon ser­vice, and for some rea­son the old man was un­a­ble to for­get the me­lo­dy.

One day he threw down his fish­ing rod and went up to the school­house. He was in­vit­ed to the Sab­bath School, but he said, No, I can­not come to­day, for I am not dressed well enough. Then he pro­mised he would come if the chil­dren would sing Pass Me Not, O Gen­tle Sav­iour. Two years af­ter, in the pre­sence of Mr. Doane, the old man, who was con­vert­ed, re­lat­ed this sto­ry, and said, God bless Wil­liam H. Doane and Fan­ny Cros­by.

Jackson, p. 13


Pass me not, O gentle Savior,
Hear my humble cry;
While on others Thou art calling,
Do not pass me by.


Savior, Savior,
Hear my humble cry;
While on others Thou art calling,
Do not pass me by.

Let me at Thy throne of mercy
Find a sweet relief,
Kneeling there in deep contrition;
Help my unbelief.


Trusting only in Thy merit,
Would I seek Thy face;
Heal my wounded, broken spirit,
Save me by Thy grace.


Thou the Spring of all my comfort,
More than life to me,
Whom have I on earth beside Thee?
Whom in Heav’n but Thee?