Isaac Watts, 1707
Alas, and did my Savior bleed,|
And did my Sov'reign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?
2. Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, thine,
3. Was it for crimes that I had done
4. Well might the sun in darkness hide,|
And shut his glories in,
When God, the mighty Maker, died
For man, the creature's sin.
5. Thus might I hide my blushing face
6. But drops of grief can ne'er repay
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