A story most lovely I’ll tell,
Of Jesus, (O wondrous surprise),
He suffered the torments of hell,
That sinners, vile sinners may rise;
He left His exalted abode,
When man by transgression was lost,
Appeasing the wrath of a God,
He shed forth His blood as the cost.

O did my dear Jesus thus bleed,
And pity a ruined lost race;
O whence did such mercy proceed,
Such boundless compassion and grace?
His body bore anguish and pain,
His spirit most sunk with the load,
A short time before He was slain,
His sweat was as great drops of blood.

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