1 I come, Thou wounded Lamb of God,
To wash me in Thy cleansing blood,
To rest beneath Thy cross; then pain
Is sweet, and life or death is gain.
Take my poor heart, and let it be
Forever closed to all but Thee!
Seal Thou my breast, and let me wear
That pledge of love forever there!
2 How blest are they who still abide
Close sheltered at Thy bleeding side!
Who life and strength from thee derive,
And by Thee more, and in thee live.
What are our works but sin and death,
Till Thou Thy quick’ning Spirit breathe?
Thou giv’st the power Thy grace to move;
O wondrous grace! O boundless love!
3 How can it be, Thou heav’nly King,
That Thou shouldst us to glory bring?
Make slaves the partners of Thy throne,
Decked with a never-fading crown?
First born of many brethren Thou!
To Thee, lo! all our souls we bow;
To thee our hearts and hands we give;
Thine may we die, thine may we live!