I’m glad the flood, which flowed so free
On Cal­va­ry’s brow, for you and me,
Applied to hearts made foul by sin,
Removes the guilt, brings peace with­in.

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O may the Sav­ior’s pre­cious blood,
The sac­red, all aton­ing blood,
With cleans­ing pow­er sweep o’er my soul,
To sanc­ti­fy and make me whole.

I see God’s re­con­cil­èd face,
Yet need a deep­er work of grace,
The full­ness which He can sup­ply,
The cleans­ing blood to pu­ri­fy.

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I want the Chris­tian’s Pen­te­cost,
The pro­mised gift, the Ho­ly Ghost,
To bring with sound like rush­ing wind,
Deliverance from the car­nal mind.

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To me this se­cond bless­ing give,
That I the high­er life may live;
This ho­li­ness, this per­fect love,
For earth be­low or Heav’n above.

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With faith in God, I lift a pray­er,
My con­se­cra­tion now declare;
On Christ, the al­tar, lay my all,
And wait for fire from Heav’n to fall.

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It comes with wit­ness bright and clear,
To scat­ter doubts and ban­ish fear;
Praise God, the Pen­te­cost­al show­er
Breaks now with pu­ri­ty and pow­er.

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