Who is this that cometh from Edom,
Crimson red His garments dyed?
In His hands are cruel nail prints,
And a spear wound in His side?
Say, who is this
Man of Sorrows?
Why is He thus pierced and scarred?
Who with face and form so kingly!
Why His beauteous visage marred?
It is Christ, the King of glory,
Who His life a ransom gave,
Bow before Him, and adore Him,
Jesus Christ the mighty to save.
Who is this, despised and rejected,
Who the winepress trod alone?
Who is this by all forsaken,
Left to comfort there are none?
Who is this oppressed, afflicted,
Yet no murmur ever heard;
As a Lamb led to the slaughter,
Yet He answers not a word!
Who is this with bearing so kingly,
And a crown His brow adorns,
Not of gold and gems befitting,
But of mocking, cruel thorns?
Why with many stripes thus beaten?
Why thus scourged and spit upon?
Why His anguish in the garden,
Kneeling, praying all alone?
Who is this on Calvary’s mountain,
Dying there such shameful death?
Who for His tormentors praying,
With His last expiring breath?
Who is this that earth should tremble
And the sun in darkness hide,
Rocks be rent and graves be opened,
When He bowed His head and died?