Lord, Thou hast known rejection,
Man’s scorn was here Thy lot;
Once to Thine own Thou earnest,
Thine own received Thee not.
In birth no royal palace
Thy resting-place was made,
But in a lowly manger,
The King of kings was laid.
And though Thou cam’st to suffer,
Thy blood ‘twas man who shed,
Not knowing that the Victim
Was offered in his stead.
Unheeded in Thy coming,
E’en though it were to save
Naught could the world afford Thee,
Naught but a cross and grave.
Ah! Lord, ‘twas love unbounded,
Moved Thee such shame to bear;
Love to the One who sent Thee—
God’s love to man brought near.
For me, Lord, Thou wast wounded,
Thy stripes have healed my soul;
For me Thou wast rejected,
That I might be made whole.
What depth of loving-kindness
Thus brought Thee here below;
Led Thee in full obedience,
E’en to a cross to go!
Thine only was the suffering,
Mine, mine alone, the sin;
Thou with the dead west numbered,
New life for me to win.
Thine was the cup of sorrow—
Unmingled joy my share;
Though here they may not know me,
My name One knoweth there.
Still onward would I follow,
Close in thy footsteps go,
Learning Thy love more fully,
Each moment here below.
And finds my heart no praises,
For mercy so divine?
For grace past human telling,
For that great love of thine?
Yea, here would I be singing
This theme of matchless grace,
Soon there, in strains more worthy,
When I behold Thy face!