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O perfect life of love! All, all is finished now, All that He left His throne above, To do for us below.

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No work is left undone Of all the Father willed; His toils and sorrows, one by one, The Scriptures have fulfilled.

No pain that we can share But He has felt its smart; All forms of human grief and care Have pierced that tender heart.

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And on His thorn-crowned head, And on His sinless soul, Our sins in all their guilt were laid That He might make us whole.

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In perfect love He dies; For me He dies, for me! O all atoning sacrifice, I cling by faith to Thee.

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In every time of need, Before the judgment throne, Thy work, 0 Lamb of God, I 'II plead, Thy merits, not my own.

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Yet work, 0 Lord, in me, As Thou for me hast wrought; And let my love the answer be To grace Thy love his brought.