1 O sinner, for a little space
Lift up thine eyes, discerning
How terrible a thing is sin;
And so to wisdom turning,
Upon the crucified One look,
And thou shalt read, as in a book,
What well is worth thy learning.
2 Look on His head, that bleeding head,
With crown of thorns surrounded;
Look on His sacred hands and feet,
Which piercing nails have wounded;
See every limb with scourges rent;
On Him, the just, the innocent,
What malice hath abounded!
3 ‘Tis not alone those tender limbs
With so much pain are aching;
For the ingratitude of man
His heart within is breaking.
O fearful was the chastisement
The Son of Mary underwent,
The place of sinners taking.
4 No man has any sorrow borne
Like unto that affliction,
When Jesus for our sake endured
His people’s contradiction;
Beyond imagination were
The sufferings He willed to bear
In that dread crucifixion.
5 Now mark, O man, and ponder well
Sin’s awful condemnation.
For whom were all those wounded endured?
To purchase thy salvation.
Had Jesus never bled and died,
Then what could thee and all betide
But fiery reprobation?
6 Flee, therefore, sinner, flee from sin
And Satan’s wiles ensnaring;
Flee from those everlasting flames
For evil ones preparing.
O thank thy Savior, and entreat
To rest hereafter at His feet,
The life eternal sharing.