And did the ho­ly and the just,
The So­ve­reign of the skies,
Stoop down to wretch­ed­ness and dust,
That guil­ty worms might rise?

Yes, the Re­deem­er left His throne,
His ra­di­ant throne on high,
(Surprising mer­cy! love un­known!)
To suf­fer, bleed and die.

He took the dy­ing trai­tor’s place,
And suf­fered in his stead;
For man (O mi­ra­cle of grace!),
For man the Sav­ior bled!

Dear Lord, what heav’n­ly won­ders dwell
In Thy aton­ing blood?
By this are sin­ners snatched from hell,
And re­bels brought to God.

Jesus, my soul, ador­ing, bends
To love so full, so free;
And may I hope that love ex­tends
Its sac­red pow­er to me?

What glad re­turn can I im­part,
For fa­vors so di­vine?
O take my all—this worth­less heart,
And make it on­ly Thine.