You ask me how I gave my heart to Christ?
I do not know.
There came a yearning for Him in my soul
So long ago.
I found earth's flowers would fade and die—
I wept for something that could satisfy;
And then and then somehow I seemed
to dare
To lift my broken heart to Him in prayer.
I do not know I cannot tell you how;
I only know He is my Savior now.
You ask me why I gave my heart to Christ?
I can reply;
It is a wondrous story; listen, while
I tell you why.
My heart was drawn, at length, to seek His face;
I was alone, I had no resting-place;
I heard of Him how He had loved me, with a
love
Of depth so great, of height so far above,
All human ken; I longed such love to share,
And sought it then, upon my knees in prayer.
You ask me why I thought this loving Christ
Would heed my prayer?
I knew He died upon the cross for me
I nailed Him there.
I heard His dying cry: "Father forgive!"
I saw Him drink death's cup that I might live;
My head was bowed upon my breast in shame!
He called me— and in penitence I came.
He heard my prayer! I cannot tell you how,
Nor when, nor where; only— I love Him now.