Vain is the thought of man
To merit heaven by prayer;
'Tis only Jesus' precious blood
Can give admission there.
Could ceaseless prayers ascend,
Could tears forever flow;
The soul were still unblest, unsaved,
And peace could never know.
But faith's one look at Christ
Expiring on the tree—
One heart-believing glance at Him,
Can set the sinner free.
None can, without the blood
Of Jesus, be forgiven;
'Tis resting on the blood alone
That fits the soul for heaven.