O perfect life of love!
All, all is finished now,
All that He left His throne above
To do for us below.

No work is left undone
Of all the Father willed;
His toils, His sorrows, one by one,
All Scripture have fulfilled.

No pain that we can share,
But He has felt the smart;
All forms of human grief and care
Have pierced that tender heart.

And on His thorn-crowned head,
And on His sinless soul,
Our sins in all their guilt were laid,
That He might make us whole.

In perfect love He dies:
For me He dies, for me!
O all-atoning Sacrifice,
I cling by faith to Thee!