Ye that pass by, behold the Man!

Ye that pass by, behold the Man!
The Man of griefs condemned for you;
The Lamb of God for sinners slain,
Weeping to Calvary pursue.

See there his temples crowned with thorns;
His bleeding hands extended wide;
His streaming feet transfixed and torn;
The fountain gushing from his side.

O thou dear suffering Son of God,
How does thy heart to sinners move!
Sprinkle on me thy precious blood;
Help me to taste thy dying love.

The rocks could feel thy powerful death,
And tremble, and asunder part;
O rend with thy expiring breath,
The harder marble of my heart.