When Wounded Sore the Stricken Heart

When wound­ed sore

the strick­en heart

Lies bleed­ing and un­bound

One on­ly hand

a pierc­èd hand

Can salve the sin­ner’s wound.

When sor­row swells the la­den breast

And tears of ang­uish flow

One on­ly heart

a brok­en heart

Can feel the sin­ner’s woe.

When pe­ni­ten­tial grief has wept

Over some foul dark spot

One on­ly stream

a stream of blood

Can wash away the blot.

’Tis Je­sus’ blood that wash­es white

His hand that brings re­lief

His heart that’s touched with all our joys

And feels for all our grief.

Lift up Thy bleed­ing hand

O Lord

Unseal that cleans­ing tide;

We have no shel­ter from our sin

But in Thy wound­ed side.