Not all the blood of beasts
On Jew-ish al-tars slain
Could give the guil-ty con-science peace
Or wash a-way the stain.
But Christ, the heaven-ly Lamb,
Takes all our sins a-way;
A sac-ri-fice of no-bler name
And rich-er blood than they.
My faith would lay her hand
On that dear head of Thine
While like a pen-i-tent I stand
And there con-fess my sin.
My soul looks back to see
The bur-den Thou didst bear
When hang-ing on the curs-ed tree
And knows her guilt was there.
Be-liev-ing, we re-joice
To see the curse re-move;
We bless the Lamb with cheer-ful voice
And sing His bleed-ing love.
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