The hand that was nailed to the cross of woe,
In love reach­es out to the world be­low;
’Tis beck­on­ing now to the souls that roam,
And point­ing the way to the heav’n­ly home.

Refrain

The hand of my Sav­ior I see,
The hand that was wound­ed for me;
’Twill lead me in love to the man­sions above,
The hand that was wound­ed for me!

E’en now I can see, through a mist of tears,
That hand still out­stretched o’er the gulf of years,
With heal­ing and hope for my sin sick soul,
One touch of its fin­ger will make me whole!

Refrain

The hand that wrought won­ders in days of old,
Holds trea­sure more pre­cious than gems or gold,
The price of re­demp­tion from sin and shame,
The gift of sal­va­tion through Je­sus’ name.

Refrain