’Twas for Thy sake, eter­nal God,
Thy Son sus­tained that hea­vy load
Of base re­proach and sore dis­grace,
And shame de­filed His sac­red face.

The Jews, His breth­ren and His kin,
Abused the Man that checked their sin;
While He ful­filled Thy ho­ly laws,
They hate Him, but with­out a cause.

My Fa­ther’s house, said He, was made
A place for wor­ship, not for trade;
Then scat­ter­ing all their gold and brass,
He scourged the mer­chants from the place.

Zeal for the tem­ple of His God
Consumed His life, ex­posed His blood;
Reproaches at Thy glo­ry thrown
He felt, and mourned them as His own.

His friends for­sook, His fol­low­ers fled,
While foes and arms sur­round His head;
They curse Him with a slan­der­ous tongue,
And the false judge main­tains the wrong.

His life they load with hate­ful lies,
And charge His lips with blas­phe­mies;
They nail Him to the shame­ful tree:
There hung the Man that died for me.

Wretches with hearts as hard as stones
Insult His pi­ety and His groans;
Gall was the food they gave Him there,
And mocked His thirst with vi­ne­gar.

But God be­held, and from His throne
Marks out the men that hate His Son;
The hand that raised Him from the dead,
Shall pour the ven­geance on their head.