I saw One hanging on a tree,
In agony and blood;
He fixes His loving eyes on me,
As near His cross I stood.
O, can it be, upon a tree The Savior died for me?
My soul is thrilled, my heart is filled,
To think He died for me!
Sure, never till my latest breath,
Can I forget that look;
It seemed to charge me with His death,
Though not a word He spoke.
My conscience felt and owned the guilt,
And plunged me in despair;
I saw my sins His blood had split
And helped to nail Him there.
A second look He gave, which said,
"I freely all forgive:
This blood is for your ransom paid,
I die that you may live."