1 He did not die in vain,
My Savior and my Lord,
The Lamb of God, for sinners slain,
The blest incarnate Word.

2 Each drop of blood He spilt
Can healing balm bestow,
And sinners lose all stains of guilt
In that most holy flow.

3 What tho' the foe still rave?
He crushed the serpent's head.
We fear nor death, nor hell, nor grave
Since He rose from the dead.

4 In yonder mansions fair,
From sin and sorrow free,
We shall His heav'nly kingdom share
And all His glory see.

5 He did not die in vain;
While endless ages roll,
The fruit of all His grief and pain
Shall satisfy His soul.