Jesus, my great High Priest,
offered his blood and died;
my guilty conscience seeks
no sacrifice beside.
His pow’rful blood did once atone,
and now it pleads before the throne.
To this dear Surety’s hand
will I commit my cause;
he answers and fulfills
his Father’s broken laws.
Behold my soul at freedom set,
my Surety paid the dreadful debt.
My Advocate appears
for my defense on high;
the Father bows his ears
and lays his thunder by.
Not all that hell or sin can say
shall turn his heart, his love, away.
Should all the hosts of death
and pow’rs of hell unknown
put their most dreadful forms
of rage and mischief on,
I shall be safe, for Christ displays
his conqu’ring pow’r and guardian grace.