1 How shall the sons of men appear,
Great God, before Thine awful bar?
How may the guilty hope to find
Acceptance with th’eternal Mind?

2 Not vows, nor groans, nor broken cries,
Not the most costly sacrifice,
Not infant blood profusely spilt,
Will expiate a sinner’s guilt.

3 Thy blood, dear Jesus, Thine alone,
Hath sovereign virtue to atone:
Here we will rest our only plea,
When we approach, great God, to Thee.