“Arise, My Soul, Arise”

Arise, my soul, arise.
Shake off thy guilty fears.
The bleeding Sacrifice
In my behalf appears.
Before the throne my Surety stands;
My name is written on His hands.

He ever lives above,
For me to intercede;
His all-redeeming love,
His precious blood, to plead.
His blood atoned for all our race,
And sprinkles now the throne of grace.

Five bleeding wounds He bears,
Received on Calvary.
They pour effectual prayer;
They strongly plead for me.
“Forgive him, oh, forgive,” they cry,
“Nor let that ransomed sinner die!”

The Father hears Him pray,
His dear Anointed One;
He cannot turn away
The presence of His Son.
His Spirit answers to the blood,
And tells me I am born of God.

My God is reconciled;
His pard’ning voice I hear.
He owns me for His child;
I can no longer fear.
With confidence I now draw nigh,
And, “Father, Abba, Father,” cry.

—Charles Wesley (1707-1788)