716    L.M.     John Berridge
The Blood of Sprinkling. Heb. 12. 24; Ps. 51. 7

1 Dear dying Friend, we look on thee,
  And own our foul offences here;
  We built thy cross on Calvary,
  And nailed and pierced thy body there.

2 Yet, let the blood our hands have spilt
  Be sprinkled on each guilty heart,
  To purge the conscience well from guilt,
  And everlasting life impart.

3 So will we sing thy lovely name,
  For grace so rich and freely given;
  And tell thy love, and tell our shame,
  That one we murdered gives us heaven.