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BLOOD IS THE PRICE OF HEAVEN. 79
Ah ! there is joy amid the saints, And hell's despairing courage faints
When this sweet song we raise: Oh louder then, and louder still, Earth with one mighty chorus fill,
The Precious Blood to praise !
BLOOD IS THE PRICE OF HEAVEN.
Blood is the price of Heaven;
All sin that price exceeds; Oh come to be forgiven, — He bleeds, My Saviour bleeds! Bleeds!
Under the olive boughs,
Falling like ruby beads, The Blood drops from His brows, He bleeds, My Saviour bleeds! Bleeds!
While the fierce scourges fall,
The Precious Blood still pleads : In front of Pilate's hall He bleeds, My Saviour bleeds! Bleeds!