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The Book of Praise,
Wash me, and make me thus Thine own;
Wash me, and mine Thou art! Wash me, but not my feet alone :
My hands, my head, my heart !
Th' atonement of Thy Blood apply,
Till faith to sight improve; Till hope in full fruition die,
And all my soul be love.
Charles Wesley. 1740. |
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CXLV.
Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee ! Let the water and the blood, From Thy riven side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure, Cleanse me from its guilt and power.
Not the labours of my hands Can fulfil Thy law's demands ; Could my zeal no respite know, Could my tears for ever flow, All for sin could not atone ; Thou must save, and Thou alone.
Nothing in my hand I bring ; Simply to Thy Cross I cling ; Naked, come to Thee for dress ; Helpless, look to Thee for grace ; Foul, I to the Fountain fly ; Wash me, Saviour, or I die! |
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