Classic Poem

The nail, the spear, the shaming tree
I make my boasted theme
On Calvary's mount, O God, I see
Thy pow'r and wisdom beam.

There is my Saviour's mission read
In characters of blood,
The Christ the son of God; he bled
To make his title good.

Illustrious act of duty, paid
To his great Father's will!
Virtue, in torments, undismay'd
Does it's high work fulfill.

Awful atonement now with smiles
Justice the pardon gives;
When to himself God reconciles
The sinner who believes.

Faith at the cross new vigour feels
(There hope and peace begin)
Subdues my fears, my sorrow heals,
And triumphs o'er my sin.

Let scorners mock and die; while those
Who love the Saviour's name,
With firm contempt their scorn oppose,
And his salvation claim.