Chief of sinners though I be,
Jesus
shed His blood for me;
Died
that I might live on high,
Died
that I might never die;
As
the branch is to the vine,
I
am His, and He is mine.
2
O
the height of Jesus' love!
Higher
than the heaven above,
Deeper
than the deepest sea,
Lasting
as eternity;
Love
that found me-wondrous thought!
Found
me when I sought Him not!
3
Chief
of sinners though I be,
Christ
is all in all to me;
All
my wants to Him are known,
All
my sorrows are His own;
Safe
with Him from earthly strife,
He
sustains the hidden life.