Christ's Atoning Wounds
M. Justin Wainscott, © 2009
That sacred stream which ever flows,
Flows from the Savior's wounds,
Does in the souls of saints compose
Sweet, Christ-exalting tunes.
So let the saints in chorus flood
This place with songs of praise;
And sing of Christ's redeeming blood,
And marvel at his grace.
The precious wounds of Christ above -
His hands, his feet, his side -
Stand as a witness to his love
For us, his ransomed bride.
Those wounds which paid our sinful debt
Remove all grounds for pride;
For God's requirements all were met
When Christ our Savior died.
So let us boast in him alone,
And in the wounds he bears;
Since he who sits on heaven's throne
Those sacred scars still wears.
And when before that throne we stand,
And on our Savior gaze;
We'll truly come to understand,
His wounds deserve our praise.
