Touched with a Feeling of Our Infirmities

When, wounded sore, the stricken soul
Lies bleeding and unbound,
One only hand, a pierced hand,
Can salve the sinner's wound.

When sorrow swells the laden breast,
And tears of anguish flow.
One only heart, a broken heart,
Can feel the sinner's woe.

"When penitence has wept in vain,
Over some foul, dark spot.
One only stream, a stream of blood.
Can wash away the blot.

Jesus, Thy blood can wash us white;
Thy hand bring sure relief;
Thy heart is touched with all our joys.
And feeleth for our grief.

Uplift Thy bleeding hand, O Lord,
Unseal that cleansing tide;
We have no shelter from our sin
But in Thy wounded side.