1 O thou, who didst thy glory leave,
Apostate sinners to retrieve
From nature's deadly fall,
If thou hast bought me with a price,
My sins against me ne'er shall rise,
For thou hast borne them all.

2 And wast thou punish'd in my stead?
Didst thou without the city bleed
To expiate my stains?
On earth my God vouchsaf'd to dwell,
And made of infinite avail,
The suff'rings of the man.

3 And wast thou for transgressors given?
And did the incarnate King of Heaven
For us his foes expire?
Amaz'd, O earth, the tidings hear!
He bore, that we might never bear
His Father's righteous ire.

4 Ye saints, the man of sorrows bless,
The God, for your unrighteousness
Deputed to atone:
Praise, 'till with all the ransom'd throng
Ye sing the never-ending song,
And see him on his throne.