Thy works, not mine, O Christ,
Speak gladness to this heart;
They tell me all is done,
They bid my fear depart.
For whom save Thee, who canst alone
For sin atone, Lord, shall I flee?
Thy wounds, not mine, O Christ,
Can heal my bruised soul;
Thy stripes, not mine, contain
The balm that makes me whole.
To whom, save Thee, who canst alone
For sin atone, Lord, shall I flee?
Thy cross, not mine, O Christ,
Has borne the awful load
Of sins that none could bear
But the incarnate God.
To whom save Thee, who canst alone
For sin atone, Lord, shall I flee?
Thy death, not mine, O Christ,
Has paid the ransom due;
Ten thousand deaths like mine
Would have been all too few.
To whom save Thee, who canst alone
For sin atone, Lord, shall I flee?
Thy righteousness, O Christ,
Alone can cover me;
No righteousness avails
Save that which is of Thee:
To whom save Thee, who canst alone
For sin atone, Lord, shall I flee?
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