O Christ, what burdens bowed Thy head! 
Our load was laid on Thee; 
Thou stoodest in the sinner’s stead – 
To bear all ill for me. 
A victim led, Thy blood was shed; 
Now there’s no load for me. 

Death and the curse were in our cup – 
O Christ, ’twas full for Thee! 
But Thou hast drained the last dark drop, 
‘Tis empty now for me. 
That bitter cup – love drank it up; 
Left but the love for me. 

Jehovah lifted up His rod – 
O Christ, it fell on Thee! 
Thou wast forsaken of Thy God; 
No distance now for me. 
Thy blood beneath that rod has flowed: 
Thy bruising healeth me. 

The tempest’s awful voice was heard, 
O Christ, it broke on Thee; 
Thy open bosom was my ward; 
It bore the storm for me. 
Thy form was scarred, Thy visage marred; 
Now cloudless peace for me. 

For me, Lord Jesus, Thou hast died, 
And I have died in Thee; 
Thou’rt risen: my bands are all untied; 
And now Thou liv’st in me. 
The Father’s face of radiant grace 
Shines now in light on me.

Anne Ross Cousin

Dr. Steven R. Cook