1 My dear Redeemer see,
Forsaken and forlorn;
Drinking the vinegar and gall,
And crown'd with ragged thorn.

2 They pierc'd him to the heart,
Oh let me view the wound!
And count the precious, flowing drops,
That stain the thirsty ground.

3 Ah! who could mar thee thus,
That never didst offend?
How could a sinful world combine
Against the sinner's friend?

4 They needed not the spear
To shed my Savior's blood;
Love would have bust his tender heart,
Whilst mercy pour'd the flood.

5 O copious, healing stream!
Though urg'd by hostile hand;
From evil springs the might good
That cleanses Judah's land.