Would I know Him if He stood here
By my side, by my side?
Doth the cruel, cruel nail-prints
Yet abide, yet abide?
Would He show me in His beauty
So divine, so divine,
That in rapture I would feel Him
To be mine, to be mine?
When to Satan thou dost answer,
Flee from me, flee from me!
When between thee and the Master,
Naught shall be, naught shall be;
On thine eyes shall flash a vision,
Wondrous fair, wondrous fair—
Lo! a pierced and thorn-crowned Savior
Standeth there, standeth there.
Could I hear Him if He called me,
Waiting here, waiting here?
Would His words of magic sweetness
Pierce my ear, pierce my ear?
Could the world with all its lurings,
Drown that tone, drown that tone,
And He pass me by and leave me
All alone, all alone?
When thou criest in thine anguish,
Savior hear, Savior hear!
It will reach Him thro’ the clamor,
Never fear, never fear!
Tho’ sometimes thine ears are deafened,
By the din, by the din,
He is listening for the summons,
Lord, come in, Lord, come in!