1 The wounds which Jesus once endured
Were stigmas of His shame;
But now they have for Him procured
An everlasting name.

2 The nail-prints, and the lance’s scar
The work of hellish spite,
His bright triumphal trophies are,
And badges of His might.

3 "Behold these hands; at My command
Touch them," the Savior cried;
"Reach hither, Thomas, reach thy hand,
And thrust it in My side."

3 Thomas obeyed the Savior’s word,
"My Lord and God," he said;
He owned his master and his Lord,
And to his God he prayed.

4 O mighty Conqueror of the grave!
To Thee be endless praise,
For all the proofs Thy mercy gave
That Thou Thyself didst raise.

5 For with Thee Lord, we upward tend,
With Thee Thy members rise;
In Thine ascension we ascend
To mansions in the skies.

6 Praise for the proofs that we receive
Through Thomas, Lord, from Thee;
He doubted that we might believe,
And never doubtful be.

7 Praise also for the lesson taught
To our fond human love,
When Thou didst raise a woman’s thought
From earth to Heav’n above.

8 Through Thomas we Thy manhood know;
And, through the Magdalene,
We learn to touch, while here below,
Thy deity unseen.