A. B. Simpson

OH, how sweet the glorious message

Simple faith may claim;

Yesterday, today, forever,

Jesus is the same.

Still He loves to save the sinful,

Heal the sick and lame;

Cheer the mourner, still the tempest;

Glory to His name!

Yesterday, today, forever

Jesus is the same.

All may change, but Jesus never!

Glory to His name!

Glory to His name!

Glory to His name!

All may change, but Jesus never!

Glory to His name!


He who was the Friend of sinners

Seeks thee, lost one, now;

Sinner, come, and at His footstool

Penitently bow.

He who said, “I’ll not condemn thee,

Go, and sin no more,”

Speaks to thee that word of pardon,

As in days of yore.


Him who pardoned erring Peter,

Never need’st thou fear;

He that came to faithless Thomas,

All thy doubt will clear.

He who let the loved disciple

On His bosom rest,

Bids thee still, with love as tender,

Lean upon His breast.


He who, ’mid the raging billows,

Walked upon the sea,

Still can hush our wildest tempest,

As on Galilee.

He who wept and prayed in anguish

In Gethsemane,

Drinks with us each cup of trembling

In our agony.


As of old He walked to Emmaus,

With them to abide;

So through all life’s way He walketh

Ever near our side.

Soon again shall we behold Him.

Hasten, Lord, the day;

But ’twill still be “this same Jesus;”

As He went away.


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