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The Blood of Sprinkling. Heb. 12. 24; Ps. 51. 7

J. Berridge   L.M.

1
Dear dying Friend, we look on thee,
And own our foul offences here;
We built thy cross on Calvary,
And nailed and pierced thy body there.

2
Yet, let the blood our hands have spilt
Be sprinkled on each guilty heart,
To purge the conscience well from guilt,
And everlasting life impart.

3
So will we sing thy lovely name,
For grace so rich and freely given;
And tell thy love, and tell our shame,
That one we murdered gives us heaven.