1 Here at thy Cross, my dying God,
I lay my Soul beneath thy Love,
Beneath the Droppings of thy Blood,
Jesus, nor shall it e'er remove.

2 Not all that Tyrants think or say,
With Rage and Lightning in their Eyes,
Nor Hell shall fright my Heart away,
Should Hell with all its Legions rise.

3 Should worlds conspire to drive me thence,
Moveless and firm this Heart should lie;
Resolv'd (for that's my last Defence)
If I must perish, there to die.

4 But speak, my Lord, and calm my Fear;
Am I not safe beneath thy Shade?
Thy Vengeance will not strike me here,
Nor Satan dares my Soul invade.

5 Yes, I'm secure beneath thy Blood,
And all my Foes shall lose their Aim:
Hosanna to my dying God,
And my best Honours to his Name.