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252 The Sufferings of Christ


A story most lovely I'll tell,
Of Jesus (O wondrous surprise!)
He suffered the torments of hell,
That sinners, vile sinners might rise.
He left His exalted abode,
When man by transgression was lost;
Appeasing the wrath of a God,
He shed forth His blood as the cost.

Oh, did my dear Jesus thus bleed,
And pity a ruined lost race?
Oh, whence did such mercy proceed?
Such boundless compassion and grace!
His body bore anguish and pain,
His spirit 'most sank with the load:
A short time before He was slain,
His sweat was as great drops of blood.

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