1 How shall I look upon that brow,
O crowned with thorns for me?
How shall I lift my sinful eyes,
Those glorious eyes to see?
2 How shall I dare to look upon
The piercèd hands and feet,
When all the dead in Christ shall rise
Their risen Lord to meet?
3 How shall I venture, holy Lord,
To come before Thee now,
All stained with sin my evil heart,
Its mark upon my brow?
4 My waywardness, my willfulness,
The sins I dare not name,
Gave to the Lord of Life His death,
The Lord of Glory shame.
5 The lame and blind were hated then
Of holy David’s soul;
They came to Thee in temple, Lord,
And Thou didst make them whole.
6 The leper dared not sit or rest
Where trace of man had been;
Yet didst Thou deign, all merciful,
To touch, and make him clean.
7 From some the righteous pure will shrink,
And shun their face to see,
But harlot and the publican
Thou calledst unto Thee.
8 And when Thy blessèd hands were pierced,
Upon the bitter tree,
Even in that hour of agony,
Thou thought with love of me.
9 Alas! I knew not what I did,
I know not what I do,
When by my sins I crucify
The Son of God anew.
10 I only know that I am vile,
More vile than words can say,
But know that Jesus did not will
The worst be cast away.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #10796