I’m Kneeling at the Cross

The blood

the blood is all my plea

Nor should a sin­ner won­der

For guil­ty stain and sting­ing pain

Hath torn my heart asun­der!

But now I’m kneel­ing at the cross

Washing in the crim­son tide

And cleansed

I tar­ry at the fount­ain

Opened at my Sav­ior’s side.

I rest

I rest su­preme­ly blest

Without a care to can­ker;

No gloomy night

my path is light

My hope holds like an an­chor.

My cup

my cup it run­neth o’er

With joy ce­les­ti­al brim­ming;

On wings of love I soar above

His hal­le­lu­jahs hymn­ing.

The blood

the blood is all my song

I have no bliss with­out it;

From ev­ery stain it makes me clean

My life and lip shall shout it.