The sprinkled blood is speaking

1The sprinkled blood is speaking
Be—fore the Father's throne,
The Spir—it's power seek—ing
To make its virtues known;
The sprinkled blood is telling
Jehovah's love to man,
While heavenly harps are swelling
Sweet notes to mercy's plan.

2The sprinkled blood is speaking
Forgiveness full and free,
Its wondrous power breaking
Each bond of guilt for me;
The sprinkled blood's revealing
A Father's smiling face,
The Saviour's love unsealing
Each monument of grace.

3The sprinkled blood is pleading
Its virtue at my sin,
And there my soul is reading
Her title to "Come in;"
The sprinkled blood is owning
The weak one as his own;
'Mid sighs, and tears, and groaning,
It pleads, O Lord, with thee.

4O wondrous power, that speaketh
From sin to set me free!
O precious blood, that breaketh
Should I not value thee?
The sprinkled blood is speaking,
Its fragrance all around,
It gilds the path we're treading,
It makes our joy abound.