Wilt thou, sinner, be converted?

Christ the Lord of glory see

By His own denied, deserted,

Bleeding, bound, and scourged for thee.

Look again, O soul, behold Him

On the cross uplifted high;

See the precious life-blood flowing,

See the tears that dim His eye.

Love has pierced the heart that brake,

Loveless sinner, for thy sake.

Hearken till thy heart is broken

To His cry so sad and sweet,

Hearken to the hammer smiting

Nails that pierce His hands and feet.

See the side whence flows the fountain

Of His love and life divine,

Riven by a hand unthankful—

Lo! that hand is thine.

See the crown of thorns adorning

God’s belovèd, holy Son;

Then fall down in bitter mourning,

Weep for that which thou hast done.

Thank Him that His heart was willing

So to die for love of thee;

Thank Him for the joy that maketh

This world’s joy but gall to be.

And till thou in Heaven adore Him

Fight for Him in knightly guise,

Joy in shame and scorn and sorrow;

Glorious is the prize!