Off in the distance, calling my name,
Is the river near whom sorrow came,
Silver and gold, to have and to hold,
The sheep is lost from the sacred fold.
Wandering and crying, sinning and dying,
What is this force with whom we are fighting?
Stronger than iron, yet under a spell,
Be careful lest he drag you down to hell!
Ensnared by the fall, every one and all,
Let us see Your refuge fearful and tall,
Though we are filthy, unworthy and dead,
Out to freedom the Perfect one has led.
Now we’re rejoicing, with one heart and voice,
The Lord has made an infallible choice,
To safe us sinners, wretched as we are,
And his Eden He won’t to us bar.