Jesus, whose blood so free­ly streamed
To sa­tis­fy the law’s de­mand;
By Thee from guilt and wrath re­deemed,
Before the Fa­ther’s face I stand.

To re­con­cile of­fend­ing man,
Make Jus­tice drop her ang­ry rod;
What crea­ture could have formed the plan,
Or who ful­fill it but a God?

No drop re­mains of all the curse,
For wretch­es who de­served the whole;
No ar­rows dipped in wrath to pierce
The guil­ty, but re­turn­ing soul.

Peace by such means so dear­ly bought,
What re­bel could have hoped to see?
Peace by his in­jured so­ve­reign wrought,
His so­ve­reign fast­ened to a tree.

Now, Lord, Thy fee­ble worm pre­pare!
For strife with earth and hell be­gins;
Conform and gird me for the war;
They hate the soul that hates his sins.

Let them in hor­rid league agree!
They may as­sault, they may dis­tress;
But can­not quench Thy love to me,
Nor rob me of the Lord my peace.