How Condescending and How Kind

How con­des­cend­ing and how kind

Was God’s eter­nal Son!

Our mi­se­ry reached His heav’n­ly mind

And pi­ty brought Him down.

When Jus­tice

by our sins pro­voked

Drew forth his dread­ful sword

He gave His soul up to the stroke

Without a mur­mur­ing word.

He sank be­neath our hea­vy woes

To raise us to His throne;

There’s ne’er a gift His hand be­stows

But cost His heart a groan.

This was com­pas­sion like a God

That when the Sav­ior knew

The price of par­don was His blood

His pi­ty ne’er withd­rew.

Now

though He reigns ex­alt­ed high

His love is still as great;

Well He re­mem­bers Cal­va­ry

Nor let His saints for­get.

Here we be­hold His bow­els roll

As kind as when He died;

And see the sor­rows of His soul

Bleed thro’ His wound­ed side.

Here we re­ceive re­peat­ed seals

Of Je­sus’ dy­ing love:

Hard is the wretch that nev­er feels

One soft af­fect­ion move.

Here let our hearts be­gin to melt

While we His death re­cord

And with our joy for par­doned guilt

Mourn that we pierced the Lord.