“Yes, but I wove the cruel crown of thorns
To pierce His brow—a crown to prove
In mockery we would not have
The Son of God as King o’er us.”
But sweet and true
The words “for you—for every one of you.”
“Oh, me; I threw Him backward there
Upon the cross—in brutal strength
Crucified Christ, God’s unresisting Lamb
Who used His power to heal, and bless, and save.”
But love anew
Cries out, “For you—for every one of you.”
“And I (in tears and bitterness I tell),
I held His quivering hand while, fiendish, fell
The anguish strokes upon the rasping nail!
The hand which healed—what can for me avail?”
Ah, if you knew!
He says, “For you—for every one of you.”
“But I, oh, misery! I bound His feet
With soiled hands awhile, then fixed them there;
Feet, hunting sin and sorrow through the land
In love that could not rest while One had strength.”
Still, like the dew,
The sweet “for you—for every one of you.”
Oh, souls, no matter what your sins have been
Against the Lord of life, between
Your heart, so stained, and His there lies
Alone the wondrous love which cries,
“I shed My blood, I gave My life for you;
Oh, how can you, refusing, wound anew?”