1 There is a spot to me more dear
Than native vale or mountain;
A spot for which affection’s tear
Springs grateful from its fountain;
’Tis not where kindred souls abound,
Though that on earth is heaven;
But where I first my Saviour found,
And felt my sins forgiven.

2 Hard was my toil to reach the shore,
Long toss'd upon the ocean;
Above me was the thunder’s roar,
Beneath, the wave’s commotion:
Darkly the pall of night was thrown
Around me faint with terror:
In that dark hour how did my groan
Ascend for years of error!

3 Sinking, and panting as for breath,
I knew not help was near me,
I cried, “Oh, save me, Lord, from death,
Immortal Jesus, hear me.”
Then quick as thought I felt him mine,
My Saviour stood before me;
I saw his brightness round me shine,
And shouted, “Glory! glory!”

4 Oh, sacred hour! Oh, hallow'd spot!
Where love divine first found me;
Wherever falls my distant lot,
My heart shall linger round thee:
And when from earth I rise, to soar
Up to my home in heaven;
Down will I cast my eyes once more,
Where I was first forgiven.