Rocha eterna, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure;
Save from wrath and make me pure

Not the labors of my hands
Can fulfill thy law's demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
These for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and thou alone

Nothing in my hand i bring,
Simply to the cross i cling;
Naked, come to thee for dress;
Helpless, look to thee for grace;
Foul, i to the fountain fly;
Wash me, savior, or i die