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tr., John Brownlie

7,6,7,6 D

4142

I

O Son of God, afflicted,

And slain for sinful men,

My soul hath oft’ depicted

What Thou didst suffer then,—

The pain, the grief, the sighing,

The burden of Thy woe,

The cross, the shame, the dying

That filled Thy life below.

II

Ah, why from heavenly blessing

Didst Thou to earth descend,

And share the woes distressing,

To be the sinner’s Friend?

The angels looked amazéd,

While men untouched beheld

The Christ to souls debaséd,

By love divine impelled.

III

’Twas love, ’twas love unbounded,

As high as heaven ascends,

As deep as depths unsounded,

And broad as earth extends;

Yea, ’twas a love undying,

That suffered for my sake;—

Lord, may a love replying,

Within my soul awake.

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