When penitential grief has wept
O’er some foul dark spot,
One only stream, a stream of blood,
Can wash away the blot.
Lift up Thy bleeding hand, O Lord,
Unseal that cleansing tide;
We have no shelter from our sin
But in Thy wounded side.
(a modern hymn by Cecil Alexander)
Phil: beautiful, gospel-soaked words! I love it!
Your cousin,
Jimmy
Thanks. Now that you say that, I notice I didn’t give proper attribution. Those words are from a hymn by Cecil Alexander.