Still Whiter Than Snow

What can be whit­er than beau­ti­ful snow

Coming from Heav­en to earth be­low

Pure and so white as it fall­eth light

Over this broad world of sin and of woe?

Yes

there is some­thing still whit­er;

Hearken ye wea­ry

and know!

Tho’ your sins be as scar­let red

They shall be whit­er than snow.

Jesus has died

and now all men may know

That His rich blood for the world did flow;

Saved we may be

and from sin set free

Washed and made whit­er than beau­ti­ful snow.

Beautiful souls of His saints here be­low

What but His blood could have made them so?

All who be­lieve shall His grace re­ceive

And be made pur­er than Heav­en-born snow.

Come to this Sav­ior! He sure­ly doth know

All of your sor­row and sin and woe

And when you sigh He will hear your cry

Wash you more white than the beau­ti­ful snow.