Strick-en, smit-ten, and af-flict-ed,
See Him dy-ing on the tree!
'Tis the Christ by man re-ject-ed;
Yes, my soul, 'tis He, 'tis He!
'Tis the long-ex-pect-ed Proph-et,
Da-vid's son, yet Da-vid's Lord;
By His Son God now has spo-ken;
'tis the true and faith-ful Word.
Tell me, ye who hear Him groan-ing,
Was there ev-er grief like His?
Friends thro' fear His cause dis-own-ing,
Foes in-sult-ing His dis-tress;
Man-y hands were raised to wound Him,
None would in-ter-pose to save;
But the deep-est stroke that pierced Him
Was the stroke that Jus-tice gave.
Ye who think of sin but light-ly
Nor sup-pose the e-vil great
Here may view its na-ture right-ly,
Here its guilt may es-ti-mate.
Mark the sac-ri-fice ap-point-ed,
See who bears the aw-ful load;
'Tis the Word, the Lord's An-oint-ed,
Son of Man and Son of God.
Here we have a firm foun-da-tion,
Here the ref-uge of the lost;
Christ's the Rock of our sal-va-tion,
His the name of which we boast.
Lamb of God, for sin-ners wound-ed,
Sac-ri-fice to can-cel guilt!
None shall ev-er be con-found-ed
Who on Him their hope have built.