1 I stood outside the gate,
A poor way-faring child;
Within my heart there beat
A tempest loud and wild;
A fear oppressed my soul,
That I might be too late;
And, oh, I trembled sore,
And prayed outside the gate.
2 “O Mercy!” loud I cried,
“Now give me rest from sin!”
“I will,” a voice replied,
And Mercy let me in:
She bound my bleeding wounds,
And soothed my heart oppressed,
She washed away my guilt,
And gave me peace and rest.
3 In Mercy’s guise I knew
The Savior long abused,
Who often sought my heart,
And wept when I refused;
Oh, what a blest return
For all my years of sin!
I stood outside the gate,
And Jesus let me in.
Select Hymns, 1911 (Timeless Truths)