O Lord, when my sins grieve me,
Then let my faith again
With thoughts of Thee re­lieve me,
And of Thy dy­ing pain.
Upon the ho­ly cross’ wood
My weight of sin sus­tain­ing,
The Lord my sure­ty stood.

O won­der with­out mea­sure
In faith’s en­light­ened eye!
For ser­vants ’twas the plea­sure
Of Christ their Lord to die!
The true—the so­ve­reign Lord of Hea­ven
For me His ru­ined crea­ture
Himself to death hath giv­en.

Therefore shall my glad spir­it
Now and through all my days,
For all Thy suf­fer­ing mer­it,
O Je­su! bring Thee praise,
Lord, for Thy death so sin­less,
Thy love and truth most high!

Lord, may Thy cross at­tend me
Through all my mor­tal day,
And from all thoughts de­fend me
That lead the heart as­tray;
That it may ne’er for­got­ten be,
How great the price Thou gav­est,
O Lord, to set me free!