Behold the Lamb, whose precious blood
Drawn from His riven side,
Had power to make our peace with God,
Nor lets one spot abide.

The dying thief beheld that Lamb
Expiring by His side,
And proved the value of the name
Of Jesus crucified.

His soul, by virtue of the blood,
To paradise received,
Redemption’s earliest trophy stood,
From sin and death retrieved.

We, too, the cleansing power have known
Of the atoning blood,
By grace have learnt His name to own,
Which brings us back to God.

To Him, then let our songs ascend,
Who stooped in grace so low:
To Christ, the Lamb, the sinner’s Friend,
Let ceaseless praises flow.