When all, like sheep, had gone astray,
And sinned against the light of day,
That Justice might with Love agree,
The Friend of Sinners died for me.
Rejected, scourged, and spit upon,
Betrayed, forsaken, left alone,
Accursed of God upon the Tree,
The Man of Sorrows died for me.
Nor can the robes of glory hide
The wounds in hands and feet and side.
The scars are there that all may see
The Lord of Glory died for me.