1 Lord Christ, when first You came to earth,
Upon a cross they bound You,
And mocked Your saving kingship then
By thorn with which they crowned You;
And still our wrongs may weave You now
New thorns to pierce that steady brow,
And robe of sorrow round You.
2 O wondrous love, which found no room
In life, where sin denied You,
And, doomed to death, must bring to doom
The power which crucified You,
Till not a stone was left on stone,
And all a nation's pride, o'erthrown,
Went down to dust beside You.
3 New advent of the love of Christ,
Shall we again refuse You,
Till in the night of hate and war
We perish as we lose You?
From old unfaith our souls release
To seek the kingdom of Your peace,
By which alone we choose You.
4 O wounded hands of Jesus, build
In us Your new creation;
Our pride is dust, our vaunt is stilled,
We wait Your revelation.
O Love that triumphs over loss,
We bring our hearts before Your cross;
Come, finish Your salvation.
