153A    L.M.     J. Hart
Matt. 27; Mark 15; John 15. 13; Eph. 2. 4, 5

1 And why, dear Saviour, tell me why,
  Thou thus would’st suffer, bleed and die;
  What mighty motive could thee move?
  The motive’s plain; ’twas all for love.

2 For love of whom? Of sinners base,
  A hardened herd, a rebel race;
  That mocked and trampled on thy blood,
  And wantoned with the wounds of God.

3 [When rocks and mountains rent with dread;
  When the fair sun withdrew his light,
  And hid his head, to shun the sight;

4 Then stood the wretch of human race,
  And raised his head and showed his face,
  Gazed unconcerned when nature failed,
  And scoffed, and sneered, and cursed, and railed.]

5 Harder than rocks and mountains are,
  More dull than dirt and earth by far,
  Man viewed unmoved thy blood’s rich stream,
  Nor ever dreamed it flowed for him.

6 [Such was the race of sinful men,
  That gained that great salvation then;
  Such, and such only, still we see;
  Such they were all; and such are we.

7 The Jews with thorns his temples crowned,
  And lashed him when his hands were bound;
  But thorns, and knotted whips, and bands
  By us were furnished to their hands.

8 They nailed him to the accursèd tree;
  (They did, my brethren; so did we);
  The soldier pierced his side, ’tis true,
  But we have pierced him through and through.]

9 O love of unexampled kind!
  That leaves all thought so far behind;
  Where length, and breadth, and depth, and height
  Are lost to my astonished sight.

10 For love of me, the Son of God
  Drained every drop of vital blood.
  Long time I after idols ran;
  But now my God’s a martyred Man.