C. Wesley

ARISE, my soul, arise,

Shake off thy guilty fears;

The bleeding Sacrifice

In my behalf appears;

Before the throne my Surety stands,

My name is written on His hands,

My name is written on His hands.


He ever lives above,

For me to intercede;

His all redeeming love

His precious blood to plead;

This blood atoned for all our race,

And sprinkles now the throne of grace,

And sprinkles now the throne of grace.


Five bleeding wounds He bears,

Received on Calvary;

They pour effectual prayers,

They strongly plead for me:

“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,

“Nor let the ransomed sinner die,

Nor let the ransomed sinner die.”


The Father hears Him pray,

His dear Anointed One;

He cannot turn away

The presence of His Son:

His Spirit answers to the blood,

And tells me I am born of God,

And tells me I am born of God.


My God is reconciled;

His pardoning voice I hear;

He owns me for His child;

I can no longer fear;

With confidence I now draw nigh,

And “Father, Abba, Father,” cry,

And “Father, Abba, Father,” cry.


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