1 Yonder— amazing sight!— I see
The incarnate son of God,
Expiring on the accursed tree,
And welt'ring in his blood.

2 Behold a purple torrent run
Down from his hands and head:
The crimson tide puts out the sun;
His groans awake the dead.

3 The trembling earth, the darken'd sky,
Proclaim the truth aloud;
And with th' amaz'd centurion cry,
"This is the Son of God."

4 So great, so vast a sacrifice
May well my hope revive:
If God's own Son thus bleeds and dies,
The sinner sure may live.

5 O that these cords of love divine,
Might draw me, Lord to thee!
Thou hast my heart, it shall be thine—
Thine it shall ever be!