ALAS! and did my Saviour bleed?
    And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
    For such a worm as I?
2  Was it for sins that I had done
    He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
    And love beyond degree!
3  Well might the sun in darkness hide,
    And shut his glories in,
When Christ, the mighty Maker, died
    For man the creature’s sin.
4  Thus might I hide my blushing face
    While His dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
    And melt mine eyes to tears.
5  But drops of grief can ne’er repay
    The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give myself away:
    ’Tis all that I can do.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748