Behold th’a­maz­ing sight,
The Sav­ior lift­ed high!
Behold the Son of God’s de­light
Expire in ago­ny!

For whom, for whom, my heart,
Were all these sor­rows borne?
Why did He feel that pierc­ing smart
And meet that var­ious scorn?

For love of us He bled,
And all in tor­ture died:
’Twas love that bowed His faint­ing head,
And oped His gush­ing side.

I see, and I ad­ore
In sym­pa­thy of love:
I feel the strong at­tract­ive pow­er
To lift my soul ab­ove.

Drawn by such chords as these,
Let all the earth com­bine
With cheer­ful ar­dor to con­fess
The ene­rgy divine.

In Thee our hearts unite,
Nor share Thy griefs alone,
But from Thy cross pur­sue their flight
To Thy tri­ump­hant throne.