Behold the Man—with thorn-crowned head,
See Him in purple robe arrayed;
The Gentile fain for Him would plead,
Rebellious Jews His fate decreed.
"He must not live," they cried aloud,
"He calls Himself the Son of God."
Behold the Man—with visage marred,
Whose form the cruel scourge had scarred;
It pleased the Lord to bruise Him sore,
The penalty for sin He bore.
Now hanging on the cursed tree,
Hark at His cry of agony.
Behold the Man—whom God forsook
Because on sin He would not look;
That holy, blessed, sinless soul
For three dark hours must bear the whole
Of what was due to guilty man,
And thus work out redemption's plan.
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Behold the Man—with glory crowned,
At God's right hand now see Him owned,
As source of God's supreme delight,
In scenes of glory none so bright!
O sinner, look to Him and live,
'Tis He the bread of life can give.
Behold the Man—O waiting saint,
Whose heart is turning weak and faint;
Tho' tarrying still, He soon will come
And take thee to His glorious home;
Look off to Christ, keep Him in sight,
His presence is this dark world's light.
As I live, saith the LORD God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die?"