Each morn I rise, the heart at rest profound,
No chain of doubt to bind the soul in thrall;
For Christ hath loosed me, freedom fully found,
By blood outpoured—accomplished once for all.

The faithful Witness stands, His word is true,
Though feelings shift like shadows on the sea;
He loves me now, as ever loves He you,
In present grace, unchanging, wild, and free.

No down payment was Calvary’s dark tree—
The cross a full discharge, the debt repaid;
“He has freed us,” rings the ancient decree,
The Lamb’s own blood our pardon hath displayed.

No striving now to hold what grace bestows,
No fragile peace that wavers with the day;
His finished work in crimson torrent flows,
And washes guilt forevermore away.

Let accusations old attempt their cry,
Let memory replay its shadowed art;
The blood speaks louder from the throne on high:
“Done!”—and seals the ransomed, contrite heart.

O rest, beloved, in this secure abode,
Where love endures and faithfulness abides;
The work is over, paid by sacred blood,
And peace like rivers through the spirit glides.