
I saw One hanging on the tree,
In agony and blood,
Who fixed His languid eyes on me,
As near His cross I stood.
O, never till my latest breath,
Can I forget that look;
It seemed to charge me with His death,
Tho’ not a word He spoke.
A second look He gave, which said,
“I freely all forgive;
This blood is for thy ransom paid,
I die that thou may’st live,”
Thus while His death my sin displays,
In all its blackest hue,
Such is the mystery of grace,
It seals my pardon too.
In agony and blood,
Who fixed His languid eyes on me,
As near His cross I stood.
O, never till my latest breath,
Can I forget that look;
It seemed to charge me with His death,
Tho’ not a word He spoke.
A second look He gave, which said,
“I freely all forgive;
This blood is for thy ransom paid,
I die that thou may’st live,”
Thus while His death my sin displays,
In all its blackest hue,
Such is the mystery of grace,
It seals my pardon too.