Verse 1
Jesus, thy blood hath purg’d my sin,
Thy blood shall wash me white as snow:
But shew me all thy sufferings mean,
Thy passion’s utmost purport shew,
And teach my heart the mystery:
Why didst thou live, and die for me?
Verse 2
Thou didst not work, that I secure
In sloth might all the day remain,
Thou didst not unknown grief endure,
To supersede my needless pain:
Thy life requires my active zeal,
Thy death, that I should suffer still.
Verse 3
No follower after thee I am,
If nothing for thy sake I bear;
A stranger to thy grief and shame,
In vain to call thee mine I dare:
Thy suffering, Lord, doth mine imply,
And binds me on thy cross to die.
Verse 4
Then let me thee my pattern trace,
With thee cry out, and faint and bleed,
’Till partner of thy last distress,
I taste the gall, and bow my head,
Calmly my spotless soul resign,
And die into the arms divine.