Rocha eterna, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee; Let the water and the blood, From thy wounded side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure; Save from wrath and make me pure Not the labors of my hands Can fulfill thy law's demands; Could my zeal no respite know, Could my tears forever flow, These for sin could not atone; Thou must save, and thou alone Nothing in my hand i bring, Simply to the cross i cling; Naked, come to thee for dress; Helpless, look to thee for grace; Foul, i to the fountain fly; Wash me, savior, or i die