The blood of Christ, thy spotless Lamb,
O God, is all my plea:
Nought else could for my sin atone,
I have no merit of my own
Which I could bring to Thee.
No sacrifice save His who bore
My load upon the tree;
No other plea which lips could frame,
No other blood, no other name,
Accepted is for me.
Since Christ has entered by His blood
The holiest on high;
By that same hallowed blood-stained track
Thou welcomest the wanderer back,
And biddest me draw nigh.
O wondrous cross! O precious blood!
O death by which I live!
The sinless One, for me made sin,
Doth now His wondrous heart within
Eternal refuge give!
By that blest cross, that cleansing blood,
I know His power to save;
The merits of His work confessed,
I stand in Him completely blest,
A conqueror o'er the grave,
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