WEBVTT

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Stricken, smitten, and afflicted,
See Him dying on the tree, Tis the Christ

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by man rejected, Yes, my soul,
tis He, tis He.

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Tis the long-expected prophet,
David's son, Yeah, David's Lord.

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By His Son God now has spoken,
Tis the true and faithful Word.

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Tell me, ye who hear Him groan,
Was there ever grief like His?

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Friends through fear His cause disowning,
Foes insulting His distress.

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Many hands were raised to wound Him,
None would interpose to save.

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But the deepest stroke that pierced Him,
Was the stroke that justice gained.

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Ye who think of sin but lightly,
Nor suppose the evil great, Here may view

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its nature rightly, Here its guilt may
estimate.

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Mark the sacrifice appointed, See who
bears the awful load.

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Tis the Word, the Lord's anointed,
Son of man and Son of God.

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Here we have a firm foundation,
Here the refuge of the lost.

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Christ, the rock of our salvation,
Is the name on which we boast.

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Lamb of God, for sinners wounded,
Sacrifice to cancel guilt.

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None shall ever be confounded,
Who on Him their hope have built.