Nothing, either great or small,
Nothing, sinner, no;
Jesus did it, did it all,
Long, long ago.

  "It is finished!" Yes, indeed,
  Finished every jot.
  Sinner, this is all you need;
  Tell me, is it not?

When He, from His lofty throne,
Stooped to do and die,
Everything was fully done:
Hearken to His cry - 

Weary, working, burdened one,
Wherefore toil you so?
Cease your doing; all was done
Long, long ago.

Till to Jesus' work you cling,
By a simple faith,
"Doing" is a deadly thing - 
"Doing" ends in death.

Cast your deadly "doing" down,
Down at Jesus' feet;
Stand "in Him," "in Him" alone,
Gloriously complete.