1 From whence this fear and unbelief?
Hast thou, O Father, put to grief
Thy spotless Son for me?
And will the righteous judge of men,
Condemn me for that debt of sin,
Which, Lord, was charg'd on thee?

2 Complete atonement thou hast made,
And to the utmost farthing paid
Whate'er thy people ow'd;
How then can wrath on me take place
If shelter'd in they righteousness,
And sprinkled with thy blood?

3 If thou hast my discharge procur'd,
And freely in my room endur'd
The whole of wrath divine;
Payment, God cannot twice demand,
First, at my bleeding surety's hand,
And then again at mine.

4 Turn then, my soul, unto thy rest;
The merits of thy great High Priest
Speak peace and liberty:
Trust in his efficacious blood;
Nor fear thy banishment from God,
Since Jesus di'd for thee.