1 My Lord, my Master, at thy feet adoring,
I see thee bowed beneath thy load of woe:
for me, a sinner, is thy life-blood pouring;
for thee, my Saviour, scarce my tears will flow.
2 Thine own disciple to the Jews has sold thee,
with friendship's kiss and loyal word he came;
how oft of faithful love my lips have told thee,
while thou hast seen my falsehood and my shame!
3 With taunts and scoffs they mock what seems thy weakness,
with blows and outrage adding pain to pain;
thou art unmoved and steadfast in thy meekness;
when I am wronged, how quickly I complain!
4 My Lord, my Saviour, when I see thee wearing
upon thy bleeding brow the crown of thorn,
shall I for pleasure live, or shrink from bearing
whate'er my lot may be of pain or scorn?
5 O victim of thy love! O pangs most healing!
O saving death! O wounds that I adore!
O shame most glorious! Christ, before thee kneeling,
I pray thee keep me thine for evermore.
Source: CPWI Hymnal #140a