There is one God and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave Himself as a ransom for all men.@1 Timothy 2:5-6
Ralph E. Hudson (1843-1901)

Isaac Watts, Hymns and Spir­it­u­al Songs, 1707-9, Book II, num­ber 9; Ralph E. Hud­son wrote the re­frain in 1885.

Mar­tyr­dom, Hugh Wil­son, 1800 (MIDI, NWC, PDF) (does not use the re­frain).

[In] the au­tumn of 1850…re­viv­al meet­ings were be­ing held in the Thir­ti­eth Street Meth­od­ist Church. Some of us went down ev­ery ev­en­ing; and, on two oc­ca­sions, I sought peace at the atlar [sic], but did not find the joy I craved, un­til one ev­en­ing, No­vem­ber 20, 1850, it seemed to me that the light must in­deed come then or ne­ver; and so I arose and went to the al­tar alone. Af­ter a pray­er was of­fered, they b­egan to sing the grand old con­se­cr­ation hymn,

Alas, and did my Saviour bleed, and did my Sovereign die?

And when they reached the third line of the fourth stan­za,

Here Lord, I give myself away,

my ve­ry soul was flood­ed with a ce­les­tial light. I sprang to my feet, shout­ing hal­le­lu­jah, and then for the first time I real­ized that I had been try­ing to hold the world in one hand and the Lord in the other.

Crosby, p. 24

Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

Alas! and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For sinners such as I?
[originally, For such a worm as I?]

Refrain

At the cross, at the cross where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away,
It was there by faith I received my sight,
And now I am happy all the day!

Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, Thine—
And bathed in its own blood—
While the firm mark of wrath divine,
His Soul in anguish stood.

Was it for crimes that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

Well might the sun in darkness hide
And shut his glories in,
When Christ, the mighty Maker died,
For man the creature’s sin.

Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt my eyes to tears.

But drops of grief can ne’er repay
The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give my self away
’Tis all that I can do.

Crucifixion, by Simon Vouet (1590-1649)