Verse 1
To whom but thee, thou bleeding Lamb,
Should I for help apply?
Still in the toils of death I am,
And sin is always nigh.

Verse 2
But thou, my Lord, art nigher still
Throughout the fiery hour,
To rescue me from my own will,
’Till I can sin no more.

Verse 3
O were thy suff’rings on the tree
Into my soul brought in!
O that thy death might work in me
A perfect death to sin!

Verse 4
Me to thy suffering self conform,
The mortal power impart,
Pity a poor, weak, lab’ring worm,
And wash my guilty heart.

Verse 5
Thou knowst on works, and means, and men,
No longer I rely,
I never, never can be clean
’Till thou thy blood apply.

Verse 6
My only trust is in thy blood,
Which purges every stain:
Bring in, O Lord, the purer flood,
Nor let me ask in vain.

Verse 7
Faith in thy blood, thou seest, I have,
For thou the grace hast given,
Thy blood from all my sin shall save,
And speak me up to heaven.

Verse 8
Thy blood shall quench this fire of hell,
Which now I feel within,
Thy blood my sin-sick soul shall heal,
And wash out all my sin.

Verse 9
In hope believing against hope
’Till then I look to thee;
I see thee, Saviour, lifted up
For all mankind and me.

Verse 10
Determin’d nothing else to know,
But Jesus crucified,
I cannot from my Jesus go,
Or leave thy wounded side.

Verse 11
Thou wilt not let me hence depart,
’Till all thy death I prove,
Redeem’d from sin, and pure in heart,
And perfected in love.

Verse 12
The anchor of my stedfast hope
Within the veil I cast,
Thy dying love shall hold me up,
’Till all the storms are past.

Verse 13
Only because thou di’dst for me
I trust on this alone,
And look in life and death to be
With thee for ever one.