Alas, dear Lord, what law then hast Thou broken, That suck sharp sentence should on The be spoken? Of what great crime hast Thou to make confession-- What dark transgression? | They crown His head with thorns, they smite, they scourge Him, With cruel mockings to the cross they urge Him, They give Him gall to drink, they still decry Him,-- They crucify Him. | Whence come these sorrows, whence this mortal anguish It is my sins for which my Lord must languish; Yes, all the wrath, the woe He doth inherit, 'T is I do merit! | What strangest punishmnent is suffer'd yonder!-- The Shepherd dies for sheep that loved to wander! The Master pays the debts His servants owe Him, Who would not know Him. | There was no spot in me by sin untainted, Sick with its venom all my heart had fainted; My heavy guilt to hell had well-nigh brought me, Such woe it wrought me. | O wondrous love! whose depths no heart hath sounded, That brought Thee here by foes and thieves surrounded; All worldly pleasures, heedless, I was trying, While Thou wert dying! | O mighty King! no time can dim Thy glory! How shall I spread abroad Thy wondrous story? How shall I find some worthy gift to proffer? What dare we offer? | For vainly doth our human wisdom ponder-- Thy woes, Thy mercy still transcend our wonder. Oh how should I do aught that could delight Thee! Can I requite Thee? | Yet unrequited, Lord, I would not leave Thee, I can renounce whate'er doth vex or grieve Thee, And quench with thoughts of Thee and prayers most lowly, All fires unholy. | But since my strength alone will ne'er suffice me To crucify desires that still entice me, To all good deeds, oh let Thy Spirit win me, And reign within me! | I'll think upon Thy mercy hour by hour, I'll love Thee so that earth must lose her power; To do Thy will shall be my foic endeavour Henceforth for ever. | Whate'er of earthly good this life may grant me I'll rlsk for Thee,--no shame, no cross shall daunt me; I shall not fear what man can do to harm me, Nor death alarm me. | But worthless is my sacrifice, I own it, Yet, Lord, for love's sake Thou wilt not disown it; Thou wilt accept my gift in Thy great meekness, Nor shame my weakness. | And when, dear Lord, before Thy throne in heaven To me the crown of joy at last is given, Where sweetest hymns Thy saints for ever raise Thee, I too shall praise Thee! | |