Now let another sight thy heart inflame!
With arms uplifted - merciless and bare,
See the sweet Victim in His love reveal'd,
By whose rich stripes alone our souls are healed:
Wrapt in His purple of descending gore,
He yields Him to the smiters more and more!
Dread Flagellation! shall its tortures tell
In vain - how we should have the doom of hell,
Had not for us the Word Incarnate trod,
The doleful winepress of the Wrath of God!
Hail, thou rejected Lamb! In all thy woe;
Let the hot tears of deep contrition flow:
Till sin, and self, and sense, be all abhorr'd,
Lost in the wounds of out once suffering Lord!
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