413		CM
	INFINITE grief! amazing woe!    Behold my suffering Lord! Both earth and hell conspired His death,     According to His Word.
2	O, the sharp pangs of smarting pain     My dear Redeemer bore, When savage whips and rugged thorns     His sacred body tore.
3	But my own sins, my cruel sins,     His chief tormentors were; For every sin became a nail,     And unbelief the spear.
4	’Twas I that brought such judgement down     Upon the guiltless One; Break, then, my heart, and weep my eyes!     To feel what I have done.
5	Come, mighty grace, my stony heart     Cause now to melt and flow, Till deep repentance draws me near,     Thy pardoning voice to know.
	Isaac Watts, 1674-1748‡