How can a sin­ner know
His sins on earth for­giv­en?
How can my Sav­ior show
My name in­scribed in Hea­ven?
What we our­selves have felt, and seen,
With con­fi­dence we tell,
And pub­lish to the sons of men
The signs in­fal­li­ble.

We who in Christ be­lieve
That He for us hath died,
His unk­nown peace re­ceive,
And feel His blood ap­plied:
Exults for joy our ris­ing soul,
Disburdened of her load,
And swells, un­ut­ter­ably full
Of glo­ry, and of God.

His love, sur­pass­ing far
The love of all be­neath,
We find with­in, and dare
The point­less darts of death:
Stronger than death, or sin, or hell,
The mys­tic pow­er we prove,
And con­quer­ors of the world we dwell
In Hea­ven, who dwell in love.

The pledge of fu­ture bliss
He now to us im­parts,
His gra­cious Spir­it is
The ear­nest in our hearts:
We an­te­date the joys above,
We taste th’eter­nal pow­ers,
And know that all those heights of love,
And all those hea­vens are ours.

Till He our life re­veal,
We rest in Christ se­cure:
His Spir­it is the seal,
Which made our par­don sure:
Our sins His blood hath blot­ted out,
And signed our soul’s re­lease:
And can we of His fa­vor doubt,
Whose blood de­clares us His?

We by His Spir­it prove
And know the things of God,
The things which of His love
He hath on us be­stowed:
Our God to us His Spir­it gave,
And dwells in us, we know,
The wit­ness in our­selves we have,
And all His fruits we show.

The meek and low­ly heart
Which in our Sav­ior was,
He do­th to us im­part,
And signs us with His cross:
Our na­ture’s course is turned, our mind
Transformed in all its pow­ers,
And both the wit­ness­es are joined,
The Spir­it of God with ours.

Whate’er our par­don­ing Lord
Commands, we glad­ly do,
And guided by His Word
We all His steps pur­sue:
His glo­ry is our sole de­sign,
We live our God to please,
And rise with fi­li­al fear di­vine
To per­fect ho­li­ness.