I never saw the morning,

Never knew a mother's face,

Sat beside the road and listened

While the daylight crossed the place.

Then I heard them ask the reason:

"Whose sin has made him so?"

But the answer broke the blame apart:

God's work was yet to show.

He made clay from dust and spittle,

Pressed the darkness on my eyes,

Sent me down to wash in Siloam;

I returned beneath the sky.

Neighbors stared and argued:

"Is this the beggar we have known?"

I had no polished explanation.

I could only say, "I am he."

One thing I know:

I was blind, now I see.

Call him sinner, call him prophet,

That fact still stands with me.

One thing I know:

No threat can make it cease.

I was blind when morning found me;

Now the light is finding me.

They took me to the rulers

On the Sabbath of the sign.

"He made clay and told me, wash;

I washed, and sight was mine."

Some said, "He breaks the Sabbath."

Some asked, "How can sin do this?"

They wanted one small answer,

But the wonder would not fit.

They called my frightened parents:

"Is this your son, born blind?"

"He is our son; he could not see,

But ask him how he finds the light."

They feared the synagogue door,

The cost of naming Christ;

So I stood again before the men

Who wanted sight denied.

One thing I know:

I was blind, now I see.

Call him sinner, call him prophet,

That fact still stands with me.

One thing I know:

No threat can make it cease.

I was blind when morning found me;

Now the light is finding me.

"Give God praise; this man is sin."

"Whether he be sin, I know not then.

Why ask me how he opened mine eyes?

Would ye also follow him?"

They reviled the man who once begged bread,

Claimed Moses, scorned the sign.

But never since the world began

Had birth-blind eyes found light.

They cast me out.

The gate closed hard.

Sight had cost me their approval.

Then Jesus heard and found me,

When the court had thrown me free:

"Dost thou believe on the Son of God?"

"Who is he, Lord, that I might believe?"

The one who spoke was standing there,

The one these eyes could see.

"Lord, I believe," became my word,

And worship bent my knees.

One thing I know:

I was blind, now I see.

But sight was more than opened eyes;

The Light had come for me.

One thing I know:

The proud can still be blind.

The one admitting need finds sight;

The one claiming sight keeps sin.

They cast me out.

He found me.