LORD, I would stand with thoughtful eye

LORD, I would stand with thoughtful eye And see Thee bleed, and see Thee die, And think, What love to me!

Dwell on the sight, my stony heart, Till every pulse within Shall into contrite sorrow start, And hate the thought of sin.

Didst Thou for me, my Saviour, brave The scoff, the scourge, the gall, The nails, the thorns, the spear, the grave, While I deserved them all?

Oh help me some return to make, To yield my heart to Thee, And do and suffer for Thy sake As Thou didst then for me.