8504. O The Blood, The Precious Blood

1 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.

2 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.

3 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.

4 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.

Text Information
First Line: O the blood, the precious blood
Title: O The Blood, The Precious Blood
Author: Charles Wesley, 1707-1788
Language: English
Source: The Unpublished Poetry of Charles Wesley, Vol. III (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1992)
Copyright: Public Domain
Tune Information
Key: F Major or modal
Source: James Nares, Foundery Collection, 1742
Copyright: Public Domain

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