I
O wounded hands and feet!
O heart, with spear thrust torn!
O brow, with blood drops falling down,
Beneath the stinging thorn!
O Jesus, Lord divine,
Why was such anguish Thine?
II
The angels were amazed,
The sun refused his light,
And they who knew that Christ was God,
Turned from the woeful sight;—
O Jesus, Lord divine,
Why was such anguish Thine?
III
My soul, can’st thou not tell?
Why such a sacrifice?
Hast thou no needs, for which alone
The cross can find supplies?
O Jesus, Lord divine,
Why was such anguish Thine?
IV
For thee the cross was reared;
For thee the Christ was slain;
For thee He sojourned with the dead,
And rose to life again;—
O Jesus, Lord divine,
Thus was the anguish Thine.
Hymns from the Morningland, 1911