By A Collection of Hymns

      L.M.
      1 EXTENDED on a cursed tree,
      Besmeared with dust, and sweat, and blood,
      See there, the king of glory see!
      Sinks and expires the Son of God.

      2 Who, who, my Saviour, this hath done?
      Who could thy sacred body wound?
      No guilt thy spotless heart hath known,
      No guile hath in thy lips been found.

      3 I, I alone, have done the deed!
      'Tis I thy sacred flesh have torn;
      My sins have caused thee, Lord, to bleed,
      Pointed the nail, and fixed the thorn.

      4 The burden, for me to sustain
      Too great, on thee, my Lord, was laid;
      To heal me, thou hast borne my pain;
      To bless me, thou a curse wast made.

      5 In the devouring lion's teeth,
      Torn, and forsook of all, I lay;
      Thou sprang'st into the jaws of death,
      From death to save the helpless prey.

      6 Saviour how shall I proclaim?
      How pay the mighty debt I owe?
      Let all I have, and all I am,
      Ceaseless to all thy glory show.

      7 Too much to thee I cannot give;
      Too much I cannot do for thee;
      Let all thy love, and all thy grief,
      Graven on my heart for ever be!

      8 The meek, the still, the lowly mind,
      O may I learn from thee, my God,
      And love, with softest pity joined,
      For those that trample on thy blood!

      9 Still let thy tears, thy groans, thy sighs,
      O'erflow my eyes, and heave my breast,
      Till loose from flesh and earth I rise,
      And ever in thy bosom rest.