1. His blood is all my plea,
Through grace divine alone,
To set the captives free,
It speaks before the throne.

R: His blood, His blood,
O wondrous, cleansing fountain!
His blood, His blood,
It flows from Calv’ry’s mountain.

2. His blood is all my plea,
Oh, wondrous, cleansing wave!
It reaches even me,
Its virtue now doth save.

3. His blood is all my plea,
Naught else will satisfy—
That I might ransomed be,
And not forever die.

4. His blood is all my plea;
His favor doth bestow
A greater love on me
Than earthly friends can show.