O the blood, the pre­cious blood,
That streams from yon­der tree!
Glory to th’in­car­nate God
Who suf­fers death for me!
Me to save from end­less pain,
Me to mount above the skies,
God be­comes a mor­tal man,
And bows His head and dies.

Him as on the al­tar laid
Ev’n now by faith I view,
Suffering in the sin­ner’s stead
The death to sin­ners due:
Say not ye, the deed is past,
Now His mor­tal pang I feel,
Still He pants, and groans His last,
He dies for sin­ners still.

Close be­neath the curs­èd wood
My pros­trate soul re­mains,
Gasping for the bal­my blood
That starts from Je­sus’ veins:
Wilt Thou not one drop af­ford?
Yes, Thou dost the com­fort give:
O my bleed­ing, lov­ing Lord,
Thou diedst that I may live.

Rivers of sal­va­tion flow
And springs of life from Thee,
Saved from sin, I live, I know
Thy blood hath ran­somed me:
Now I catch the heal­ing tide
Now I taste how good Thou art,
Now I feel the blood ap­plied,
The par­don to my heart.