BEHOLD the amazing sight! The Saviour lifted high; The Son of God, His soul’s delight, Expires in agony.
For whom, for whom, my heart, Were all those sorrows borne? Why did He feel that piercing smart, And wear that crown of thorn?
For us in love He bled, For us in anguish died; ’Twas love that bowed His sacred head, And pierced His precious side.
We see, and we adore, We trust that dying love; We feel its strong attractive power To lift our souls above.
Behold the amazing sight! Nor trace His griefs alone, But from the cross pursue our flight To His triumphant throne.
Philip Doddridge, 1702-51