To Him who on the fatal tree
Poured out His blood, His life for me,
In grateful strains my voice I'll raise,
And in His service spend my days.

To list'ning multitudes I'll tell
How He redeemed my soul from hell;
And how, reposing on His breast,
I lost my cares, and found my rest.

Thru Him my sins are all forgiv'n,
He ever pleads my cause in Heav'n;
I'll build an altar to His name,
And to the world His grace proclaim!