When on my beloved I gaze,
So dazzling his beauties appear,
His charms so transcendantly blaze,
The sight is too melting to bear!

When from my own vileness I turn
To Jesus, expos'd on the tree,
With shame and with wonder I burn,
To think what he suffer'd for me.

My sins, oh how black they appear,
When in that dear bosom they meet!
Those sins were the nails and the spear
That wounded his hands and his feet.

'Twas justice that wreath'd for his head
The thorns that encircled it round.
Thy temples, Emmanuel, bled,
That mine might with glory be crown'd!

The wonderful love of his heart,
Where he has recorded my name,
On earth can be known but in part,
Heav'n only can bear the full flame.

In rivers of sorrow it flow'd,
And flow'd in those rivers for me;
My sins are all drown'd in his blood;
My soul is both happy and free.