Or spurned his father underfoot and him smote,
Yea, though one should thrust down his brother’s throat
All the evil that in the world is brewed,
And then but repented him in mood,
Straightway to him is thine abundant grace supplied.
GOD
Wherefore was it I the death died
Shamefully upon the cross of tree,
Were it not that man, whether young or old he be,
Might get him mercy at the hands of my Father?