In the far corner of a field
The sheep were clustered with the bees
Where scent of varied flowers will yield
So many joys there unconcealed
In swaying shadows of the trees.
One sheep had strayed much farther then
And caught in thorns with pleading cries
The Shepherd searched and searched again
This seeking role He would maintain
To make the wounded sheep His prize.
He stooped to hold the injured sheep
Grace and compassion on His Face
His lowly place that stoop would keep
To tend its wounds, while He would weep
The endless wonder of His Grace.
It has been said that Grace will show
A clear apparent stoop within
His meeting-place with man below
Because of us, His Blood will flow
Amazing Grace our hearts will win.