It Cleanseth Me

There is a stream that flows from Cal­va­ry

A crim­son tide so deep and wide.

It wash­es whit­er than the pur­est snow;

It cleans­eth me

I know.

Hallelujah! ’tis His blood that cleans­eth me

’Tis His grace that makes me free.

And my bro­ther

’tis for thee.

Oh

hal­le­lujah! ’tis sal­va­tion full and free;

And it cleans­eth

yes

it cleans­eth me.

Its sav­ing vir­tues ev­er are the same

It cleans­eth still

and al­ways will.

Poor sin­ners who will seek the Sav­ior’s face

Shall know His won­drous grace.

No oth­er fount­ain can for sin atone

But Je­sus’ blood

O pre­cious flood!

And who­so­ev­er will may plunge there­in

And be made free from sin.