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Verse 1

Are there no wounds for me?
Hast thou received them all?
How can I, Lord, the anguish see,
Beneath which thou didst fall?

Verse 2

’Tis over now, I know,--
That suffering life of thine;
Thy precious blood has ceased to flow,
Thou wear’st thy crown divine;

Verse 3

But yet, I weeping see
The thorns which pierced thy head;
Thou faint’st beneath thy cross for me,
For me to death thou’rt led!

Verse 4

Meekly, with love divine,
Thy holy head is bent,
And streams of blood, for sins of mine,
Flow where thy side is rent.

Verse 5

Beneath this sacred flood
I bow my sinful soul;
Dear Savior, let thy precious blood
Wash me and make me whole.