I saw myself a dirty stranger, Lord
Not worthy of your glance
Ne'er deserving of the blood you shed
My sin --- your fatal lance!
You saw yourself a lowly servant, Lord
Washing my filthy feet
Teaching me and giving hope
Your gifts --- like honey --- sweet.
O Lord, my God, how new I am
My clothes are bright and clean
Glowing with YOUR righteousness
Not stranger --- now saint --- my name!
Copyright © Barbara Attaway