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At The Feet of Jesus
The perfume left the bottle,
The fragrance filled the air.
With tears her worship was given,
As she wiped His feet with her hair.
The perfume so fragrant and sweet,
Costly oil she’d had to buy
She poured it on His feet with love,
Did she know He was soon to die?
As she poured her heart with the oil,
Her worship was in the right place,
Kneeling at His feet so humbly,
Tears slipping down her face.
A picture for us to live by,
To Worship Christ Jesus the King.
Anoint His feet with my worship,
With honor and praise I sing.
I pour out my pain and fear,
And He wipes it with his blood.
A clean heart with which to give Him,
As His presence comes in like a flood.
To Jesus, my gift is Worship.
Honor and trust on my knees.
I thank You Jesus for taking,
My love, my gift, and my pleas.
Each day I will strive to remember,
Mary pouring her heart on His feet.
And praises I will lift with Joy,
Glorious Praises, I will often repeat.
