Old-Line Primitive Baptist Hymn and Tune Book

133 (S.M.) Isaac Watts

Not all the blood of beasts

On Jewish altars slain

Could give the guilty conscience peace,

Or wash away the stain.

But Christ, the heav'nly Lamb,

Takes all our sins away;

A sacrifice of nobler name

And richer blood than they.

My faith would lay her hand

On that dear head of Thine

While like a penitent I stand

And there confess my sin.

My soul looks back to see

The burden Thou didst bear

When hanging on the shameful tree,

And hopes her guilt was there.

Believing, we rejoice

To see the curse removed;

We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice

And sing His bleeding love.