O the Blood, the Precious Blood

O the blood

the pre­cious blood

That streams from yon­der tree!

Glory to th’in­car­nate God

Who suf­fers death for me!

Me to save from end­less pain

Me to mount ab­ove the skies

God be­comes a mor­tal man

And bows His head and dies.

Him as on the al­tar laid

Ev’n now by faith I view

Suffering in the sin­ner’s stead

The death to sin­ners due:

Say not ye

the deed is past

Now His mor­tal pang I feel

Still He pants

and groans His last

He dies for sin­ners still.

Close be­neath the curs­èd wood

My pros­trate soul re­mains

Gasping for the bal­my blood

That starts from Je­sus’ veins:

Wilt Thou not one drop af­ford?

Yes

Thou dost the com­fort give:

O my bleed­ing

lov­ing Lord

Thou diedst that I may live.

Rivers of sal­va­tion flow

And springs of life from Thee

Saved from sin

I live

I know

Thy blood hath ran­somed me:

Now I catch the heal­ing tide

Now I taste how good Thou art

Now I feel the blood ap­plied

The par­don to my heart.