O Jesus! everlasting God!
Who didst for sinners shed Thy blood
Upon th' accursèd tree;
And, finishing redemption's toil,
Didst win for us the happy spoil—
All praise we give to Thee.
Fain would we think upon Thy pain,
Would find in Thee our life and gain,
And firmly fix our heart
Upon Thy grief and dying love,
Nor evermore from Thee remove,
Though from all else we part.
The more through grace ourselves we know,
The more rejoiced we are to bow
And glory in Thy cross;
To trust in Thine atoning blood,
And look to Thee for every good,
And count all else but dross.