BEHOLD the amazing sight!
   The Saviour lifted high;
The Son of God, His soul’s delight,
    Expires in agony.
2      For whom, for whom, my heart,
    Were all those sorrows borne?
Why did He feel that piercing smart,
    And wear that crown of thorn?
3      For us in love He bled,
    For us in anguish died;
’Twas love that bowed His sacred head,
    And pierced His precious side.
4      We see, and we adore,
    We trust that dying love;
We feel its strong attractive power
    To lift our souls above.
5      Behold the amazing sight!
    Nor trace His griefs alone,
But from the cross pursue our flight
    To His triumphant throne.
Philip Doddridge, 1702-51