3 The scourge, the thorns, the deep disgrace— These thou couldst bear, nor once repine; But when Jehovah vailed his face, Unutterable pangs were thine. 4 Let the dumb world its silence break; Let pealing anthems rend the sky; Awake, my sluggish soul, awake! He died, that we might never die. 5 Lord! on thy cross I fix mine eye; If e’er I lose its strong control, O! let that dying, piercing cry, Melt and reclaim my wandering soul. 169 L. M. Looking to the cross. O Lord! when faith with fixéd eyes Beholds thy wondrous sacrifice, Love rises to an ardent flame, And we all other hope disclaim. 2 With cold affections who can see The thorns, the scourge, the nails, the tree, The flowing tears and crimson sweat, The bleeding hands, and head, and feet? 3 Jesus, what millions of our race Have seen the triumphs of thy grace! And millions more to thee shall fly, And on thy sacrifice rely. 4 The sorrow, shame, and death, were thine, And all the stores of wrath divine! Ours are the pardon, life, and bliss; What love can be compared to this! 170 L. M. Herein is love! 1 John 4:10. Have we no tears to shed for him, While soldiers scoff, and Jews deride? Ah! look, how patiently he hangs— Jesus, our Love, is crucified! 2 What was thy crime, my dearest Lord? By earth, by heaven, thou hast been tried, And guilty found of too much love; Jesus, our Love, is crucified! 3 Found guilty of excess of love, It was thine own sweet will that tied Thee tighter far than helpless nails; Jesus, our Love, is crucified! 4 O break, O break, hard heart of mine! Thy weak self-love and guilty pride His Pilate and his Judas were; Jesus, our Love, is crucified! 171 L. M. Behold the Man! Behold the Man! how glorious he! Before his foes he stands unawed, And, without wrong or blasphemy, He claims equality with God. 2 Behold the Man! by all condemned, Assaulted by a host of foes; His person and his claims contemned: A Man of suffering and of woes. 3 Behold the Man! he stands alone, His foes are ready to devour; Not one of all his friends will own Their Master in this trying hour. 4 Behold the Man! though scorned below, He bears the greatest name above; The angels at his footstool bow, And all his royal claims approve. 172 L. M. Darkness and light. He dies, the friend of winners dies! Lo! Salem’s daughters weep around! A solemn darkness vails the skies, A sudden trembling shakes the ground.