The Saviour Died For Me

I saw One hanging on a tree,

In agony and blood,

Who fixed His languid eyes on me,

As near His cross I stood.
O, can it be upon a tree

The Saviour died for me?

My soul is thrilled,

My heart is filled

To think He died for me!

Sure, never to my latest breath,

Can I forget that look;

It seemed to charge me with His death,

Though not a word He spoke....

O can it be upon a tree.

The Saviour died for me?

My soul is thrilled,

My heart is filled.

To think He died for me!

My conscience felt and owned the guilt,

And plunged me in despair,

I saw my sins His blood had spilt,

And helped to nail Him there.

O, can it be upon a tree,

The Saviour died for me?

My soul is thrilled,

My heart is filled,

To think He died for me!

A second look He gave, which said,

I freely all forgive;

This blood is for thy ransom paid;

I die that thou mayst live.”
O, can it be, upon a tree,

The Saviour died for me?
My soul is thrilled,
My heart is filled
To think He died for me!