Come with me, and stand by its side,
Whilst the voice of the Priest softly sounds on the air
As he pours the Baptismal tide.
By pillows supported, in sore strife for breath,
See one enter that Army within;
Whose Captain accepts all the maim’d and the halt,
Whose service is no worth to Him.
O, wonderful Mercy, unspeakable Love!
Who gave all His best for our sake;
The few faded fragments and dregs of lost life,