The thorns, the scourge, the nails, the tree,
The flowing tears and crimson sweat,
The bleeding hands, and head, and feet?
3 Jesus, what millions of our race
Have seen the triumphs of thy grace!
And millions more to thee shall fly,
And on thy sacrifice rely.
4 The sorrow, shame, and death, were thine,
And all the stores of wrath divine!
Ours are the pardon, life, and bliss;