1 WHOM have we, Lord, but Thee,
Soul thirst to satisfy?
Exhaustless spring! The waters free!
All other streams are dry.
2 Our hearts by Thee are set
On brighter things above;
Strange that we ever should forget
Thine own most faithful love.
3 Yet oft we credit not
That Thou dost give as God,
Though well we know our happy lot
In trusting to Thy blood.
4 None like the ransomed host
That precious blood have known;
Redemption gives faith's holy boast
To draw so near the throne.
5 Higher and higher yet!
Pleading that same life-blood,
We taste the love that knows no let,
Of Abba, as of God.
