Jesus, Saviour, Son of God!
Thou Thy path on earth hast trod;
Keenly felt each piercing thorn,
Borne reproach, contempt, and scorn.
Glory now Thy head adorns,
Which by man was crown’d with thorns;
Thou, who didst for sin atone,
Now art on Thy Father’s throne.
Thou, the Living Lord, above,
Art the same, in grace and love,
As Thou wast, when here below,
Healing sickness, soothing woe.
For the tempted, Thou dost feel,
Thou dost succor, help and heal.
Mighty Conq’ror o’er the grave
Thou dost ever live to save.
While we tarry here on earth,
In this land of drought and dearth,
While we have a want or woe,
Grace from Thee shall freely flow.
Soon we shall have run the race,
Meet Thee, Saviour, face to face;
Then, from sin and sorrow free,
We shall ever dwell with Thee.