Classic Poem

Thy works, not mine, O Christ,
Speak gladness to this heart;
They tell me all is done;
They bid my fear depart.
To whom save thee,
Who can alone
For sin atone,
Lord, shall I flee!

Thy pains, not mine, O Christ,
Upon the shameful tree,
Have paid the law's full price,
And purchased peace for me.
To whom, save thee, etc.

Thy tears, not mine, O Christ,
Have wept my guilt away;
And turned this night of mine
Into a blessed day.
To whom, save thee, etc.

Thy bonds, not mine, O Christ,
Unbind me of my chain,
And break my prison-doors,
Ne'er to be barred again.
To whom, save thee, etc.

Thy wounds, not mine, O Christ,
Can heal my bruised soul;
Thy stripes, not mine, contain
The balm that makes me whole.
To whom, save thee, etc.

Thy blood, not mine, O Christ,
Thy blood so freely spilt,
Can blanch my blackest stains
And purge away my guilt.
To whom, save thee, etc.

Thy cross, not mine, O Christ,
Has borne the awful load
Of sins that none in heaven
Or earth could bear but God.
To whom, save thee, etc.

Thy death, not mine, O Christ,
Has paid the ransom due;
Ten thousand deaths like mine,
Would have been all too few.
To whom, save thee, etc.

Thy righteousness, O Christ,
Alone can cover me;
No righteousness avails
Save that which is of thee.
To whom, save thee, etc.

Thy righteousness alone
Can clothe and beautify;
I wrap it round my soul;
In this I'll live and die.
To whom, save thee, etc.