Sinners, away from Sinai fly!
On Calv'ry's bloody scene repair;
Behold the Prince of glory die,
And read your peace and pardon there!

Search into every open wound;
Trace the sharp scourge, the nails, the spear;
And full salvation will be found
In golden letters written there.

No works of man, to raise the sum
Or pay the ransom, must be brought;
Helpless and poor to Jesus come,
Nor strive to bring a perfect thought.

Your faith, your hope, and righteousness,
Be treasur'd up in him alone;
Our rich supplies of grace and peace
Flowing from the works your Lord has done.

Hell opens her ten thousand graves
To swallow those that die in sin;
That all the great Emmanuel saves
Heav'n's open gates shall welcome in.

There shall the blood-wash'd armies go
That trust the great Redeemer here;
The plant that buds with grace below
Shall ripen into glory there!