My Jesus, fair, was pierced by thorns,
By thorns grown from the fall.
Thus He who gave the curse was torn
To end that curse for all.
O love divine, O matchless grace-
That God should die for men!
With joyful grief I lift my praise,
Abhorring all my sin,
Adoring only Him.
My Jesus, meek, was scorned by men,
By men in blasphemy.
"Father, forgive their senseless sin!"
He prayed, for them, for me.
My Jesus, kind, was torn by nails,
By nails of cruel men.
And to His cross, as grace prevailed,
God pinned my wretched sin.
My Jesus, pure, was crushed by God,
By God, in judgment just.
The Father grieved, yet turned His rod
On Christ, made sin for us.
My Jesus, strong, shall come to reign,
To reign in majesty.
The Lamb arose, and death is slain.
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