IN Jesus’ name, with one accord,
   Lift up a sacred hymn,
And think what healing streams were poured
    From every bleeding limb.
2  O, who can tell what woes He bore
    When that pure blood was spilt,
What pangs His tortured body tore
    When loaded with our guilt?
3  ’Twas not the insulting voice of scorn
    So deeply wrung His heart;
The piercing nail, the tearing thorn,
    Caused not the saddest smart:
4  But every struggling sigh betrayed
    A heavier grief within,
When on His burdened soul was laid
    The weight of human sin.
5  O Lord, Who came to earth to bear
    Our sins’ oppressive load,
Grant us Thy righteousness to wear,
    And lead us to our God.
William Hiley Bathurst, 1796-1877