Extended on a Cursed Tree

Extended on a cursed tree, Besmeared with dust, and sweat, and blood, See there, the King of Glory see! Sinks and expires the Son of God.

Who, who my Saviour, this hath done? Who could Thy sacred body wound? No guilt Thy spotless heart hath known, No guile hath in Thy lips been found.

I, I alone, have done the dead! "Tis I Thy sacred flesh have torn; My sins have caused Thee, Lord, to bleed, Pointed the nail, and fixed the thorn.

The burden, for me to sustain Too great, on Thee, my Lord, was laid; To heal me, Thou hast borne my pain; To bless me, Thou a curse wast made.

My Saviour, how shall I proclaim? How pay the mighty debt I owe? Let all I have and all I am, Ceaseless to all Thy glory show.

Too much to Thee I cannot give; Too much I cannot do for Thee; Let all Thy love, and all Thy grief, Graven on my heart for ever be!