What means this eager, anxious throng, Which moves with busy haste along, These wondrous gath’rings day by day? What means this strange commotion, say? 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, there’s a refuge nigh: “Jesus of Nazareth passeth by.” Ye tempted, there’s a refuge nigh: “Jesus of Nazareth passeth by.”
But if you still this 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.”
