What
means
this
eager,
anxious
throng,
Which
moves
with
busy
haste
along—
These
wondrous
gath’rings
day by
day,
What
means
this
strange
commotion,
pray?
In
accents
hushed
the
throng
reply,
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
passeth
by.”
In
accents
hushed
the
throng
reply,
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
passeth
by.”
Who is
this
Jesus?
why
should
He
The
city
move
so
mightily?
A
passing
stranger,
has He
skill
To
move
the
multitude
at
will?
Again
the
stirring
tones
reply,
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
passeth
by.”
Again
the
stirring
tones
reply,
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
passeth
by.”
Jesus!
’tis
He Who
once
below
Man’s
pathway
trod,
’mid
pain
and
woe;
And
burdened
ones,
where’er
He
came,
Brought
out
their
sick,
and
deaf
and
lame;
The
blind
rejoiced
to
hear
the
cry,
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
passeth
by.”
The
blind
rejoiced
to
hear
the
cry,
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
passeth
by.”
Again
He
comes!
From
place
to
place
His
holy
footprints
we can
trace;
He
pauseth
at our
threshold—nay,
He
enters—condescends
to
stay:
Shall
we not
gladly
raise
the
cry?
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
passeth
by.”
Shall
we not
gladly
raise
the
cry?
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
passeth
by.”
Ho!
all ye
heavy
laden,
come!
Here’s
pardon,
comfort,
rest
and
home:
Ye
wand’rers
from a
Father’s
face,
Return,
accept
His
proffered
grace;
Ye
tempted
ones,
there’s
refuge
nigh:
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
passeth
by.”
Ye
tempted
ones,
there’s
refuge
nigh:
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
passeth
by.”
But
if you
still
His
call
refuse,
And
all
His
wondrous
love
abuse,
Soon
will
He
sadly
from
you
turn,
Your
bitter
prayer
for
pardon
spurn,
“Too
late!
too
late!”
will
be the
cry—
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
has
passed
by.”
“Too
late!
too
late!”
will
be the
cry—
“Jesus
of
Nazareth
has
passed
by.”
