1 Aloud we sing the wond'rous grace,
Christ to his murderers bare;
which made the tottering cross its throne,
And hung its trophies there.
2 "Father forgive," his mercy cry'd,
With his expiring breath,
And drew eternal blessings down
On those who wrought his deat.
3 Jesus, this wond'rous love we sing,
And whilst we sing admire;
Breathe on our souls and kindle there,
The same celestial fire.
4 Sway'd by thy dear example, Lord,
For enemies we'll pray;
with love their hatred we'll reward
With blessings we'll repay.