Drawn to the cross, which Thou has blest
With healing gifts for souls distressed,
To find in Thee my life, my rest,
Christ Crucified, I come.

Thou knowest all my griefs and fears,
Thy grace abused, my misspent years;
Yet now to Thee with contrite tears,
Christ Crucified, I come.

Wash me and take away each stain;
Let nothing of my sin remain.
For cleansing, tho’ it be thro’ pain,
Christ Crucified, I come.

And then for work to do for Thee,
Which shall so sweet a service be
That angels well might envy me,
Christ Crucified, I come.