Grace

I cannot comprehend,
When in my lowly state,
That He my soul should mend,
Although I am prostrate.

Not for his love lay I,
But for my weak-knee'd pain.
No reverence still have I,
For Grace, which falls like rain.

But Grace, my constant friend,
Still gently lifts me up. 
Not wishing my quick end,
Grace overflows my cup.

His Grace still finds me now,
My mind in far-off lands,
I wonder "My God, How?"
"How graceful are your hands?"

I can't deserve His Grace,
I steal, I lie, I cheat,
But blood flowed from His face,
His side, His Brow, His Feet.

Amazing Grace, how sweet
That saved a wretch like me,
His standards I can't meet,
But Grace still sets me free.