1 I love the holy Son of God,
Who once this vale of sorrow trod,
Who bore my sins, a dreadful load,
Up Calvary’s gloomy mountain.
2 There on the cross the Savior hung,
The sport of many an impious tongue,
While pain extreme His nature wrung,
And flowed life’s crimson fountain.
3 The sun would not behold the scene,
But round Him threw night’s sable screen;
Nature was robed in mourning mien,
And sighed when Jesus suffered.
4 But ah! His persecutors stood,
Reviling Christ, the Son of God,
Unmoved to see His gushing blood,
And shocking insults offered.
5 O! why did not His fury burn,
And floods of vengeance on them turn?
Amazing! See, His bowels yearn
In soft compassion on them.
6 No fury kindles in His eyes,
They beam with love—and when He dies,
"Father, forgive," the sufferer cries,
"They know not!"—O forgive them.
7 How ardent ought my love to be
To Him who’s done so much for me;
My constant service, faithful, free—
And all my powers employing.
8 I should my cross with pleasure bear,
And place my all of glorying there,
In His reproach most gladly share,
In tribulation joying.
9 And never shall it be concealed,
He hath to me His love revealed,
Of all my sins a pardon sealed—
I feel His blessèd favor.
10 In Him I do and will rejoice;
I’ll praise Him with a cheerful voice,
Until the theme my tongue employs
In Heaven above, forever.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #10565