|
|
| |
|
The Saviour came, no outward pomp
Declared that he was nigh;
No earthly glories shone in him,
To draw the carnal eye.
Fair as a beauteous tender flower,
Amidst the desert grows;
So slightly by a rebel race,
The heavenly Saviour rose.
Rejected and despised of men,
He was a man of woe,
Grief was his close companion still,
Through all his life below,
Yet all the grief he felt was ours,
Ours were the woes he bore;
Pangs not his own, his spotless soul
With bitter anguish tore.
They thought he was condemned of heaven,
An outcast from his God;
While for our sins he groaned and bled,
Beneath his Father’s rod.
His sacred blood hath washed our souls
From sin’s polluting stain;
His stripes have healed us, and his death
Revived our souls again.
He died to bear our guilt away,
That sin might be forgiven;
He lives to bless us and defend,
And please our cause in heaven.
|
marker 99
|
LYRICS
|
Meter:
|
8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Trans/Adapted:
|
| |
Dates:
|
|
|
Bible Refs:
|
Is 53:1-12;
|
LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
|
Hymn/Song Book
|
Year
|
Song #
|
| 1853 | # 548 |
echo ' | ';
|
Hymn Writer
