THE Cross, oh, blessed tree!
Incarnate Deity
Hangs there, and bleeds for me.
I love this sacred place,
Where all God's righteous grace
Shines forth in that marred face.
There what I am, I read;
There sin looks sin indeed,
Since He had thus to bleed.
There Truth maintained its word,
While Justice woke its sword
To smite my sinless Lord.
Mercy and peace combine
With righteousness divine,
And all harmonious shine.
But oh, God's perfect love,
All enmities above,
Doth all surpassing prove.
The Cross, oh, blessed tree,-
Love's greatest mystery,-
That won me, Lord, to Thee!