I thought today of my childhood days;
The prayer at my mother’s knee;
Of the counsels grave that my father gave—
The wrath I was warned to flee.
I thought today of the many days
I had wasted in folly and sin—
Of the times I mocked when the Saviour knocked,
And I would not let Him in.
What joy to find that He loved me still,
And waited my love to win—
To make me know, on the cross of woe,
He suffered for all my sin.
And that precious blood that from His side
Was drawn by the soldier’s spear,
Has cleansed my soul and made me whole—
To His Father brought me near.