The Ungrateful Blood Donor Recipient

Oh, if we knew the power of that precious blood,
what would we do?
Would we sit on folded hands?
Surely we would shout a mighty shout of thanks.
Or would we revell in our own demands?
When waters of life wash away hope,
would we trust the solid rock that stands?
Dost the Rock of Ages build our house?
Or we labor in vain upon the sands?

Oh, if we knew the power of the Blood of Christ,
what we would say!
Would to God, the lips of man be fresh with humble praise.
That glad refrain from our hearts would shine out like noonday.
"The perfect blood of the Lamb that washes all sin away."
Oh, how oft and ernest we would pray
if we really knew the power of the blood today.

Oh, if we knew that cleansing power,
how it would tear down the walls of apathy.
How we would trust that blood.
How we would live in that healing flood.
How thankful we would ever be for that precious blood.
If we only knew.
If I only knew.
If they only knew.