I.

What solemn groans are those I hear,
It's like some bleeding victim near;
From Golgotha methinks they rise;
Ah! tis the Saviour bleeds for me;
For me, for me, for me, for me,
He bows his head and groans and dies.

II.

Angels, behold your maker GOD .
Nail'd to the tree now dress'd in blood,
That he might spread his boundless grace:
Adam with all your sons behold,
Behold, behold, behold, behold,
The Saviour of your guilty race.

III.

All dress'd in purple gore he hangs,
In agonies, and dying pangs;
And praying gasps th' expiring breath
Freely the great Messiah dies,
He dies, he dies, he dies, he dies,
To save immortal souls from death.

IV.

Think, O my soul, how can it be,
The king of glory bleeds for thee!
Behold, behold thy Jesus die!
How great thy goodness, O my GOD !
M Y GOD , my GOD , my GOD , my GOD ,
To bleed for such a wretch as I!