O Teach Me What It Meaneth

O teach me what it meaneth,
that cross uplifted high,
with One, the Man of Sorrows,
condemned to bleed and die!
O teach me what it cost Thee
to make a sinner whole;
And teach me, Saviour, teach me
the value of a soul!

O teach me what it meaneth,
that sacred crimson tide,
the blood and water flowing
from Thine own wounded side.
Teach me that if none other
had sinned, but I alone,
yet still Thy blood, Lord Jesus,
Thine only, must atone.

O teach me what it meaneth,
Thy love beyond compare,
the love that reacheth deeper
than depths of self-despair!
Yes, teach me, till there gloweth
in this cold heart of mine
some feeble, pale reflection
of that pure love of Thine.

O teach me what it meaneth,
for I am full of sin,
and grace alone can reach me,
and love alone can win.
O teach me, for I need Thee,
I have no help beside—
the chief of all the sinners
for whom the Saviour died!

O Infinite Redeemer!
I bring no other plea;
Because Thou dost invite me
I cast myself on Thee.
Because Thou dost accept me
I love and I adore;
Because Thy love constraineth,
I'll praise Thee evermore!