At The Foot Of The Cross

I値l kneel at the old wooden cross

Where my savior died for me,

I'll lift my arms in praise

And praise Him through eternity.

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I値l kneel at the old wooden cross

And joyfully praise His name,

For on that old cross He changed me

And I will never be the same.

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Oh, the precious blood He spilled!

Oh, pain and agony He bore!

How it tears at my heart and soul,

And I値l praise Him forevermore.

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I値l kneel at the foot of the cross

In thankfulness for my days,

For the love He bestowed on me

And I give Him all of my praise.

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Without that old wooden cross

And the life He gave so free

To cover the sins of the world,

Where would humanity be?

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Oh, the precious blood He spilled!

Oh, the suffering He endured!

And by His never ending love

My home in glory is secured.

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I値l kneel at the old wooden cross

Where He took my place,

And offer up my thankful praise

That someday, I'll see His face.


ｩLora Cox

[ by: Lora Cox Copyright © 2004 (bell@evansville.net) -- submitted by: Lora Cox ]