1
Lord Jesus, when we stand afar,
And gaze upon Thy holy cross,
In love of Thee and scorn of self,
O may we count the world as loss.
2
When we behold Thy bleeding wounds,
And the rough way that Thou hast trod,
Make us to hate the load of sin
That lay so heavy on our God.
3
O holy Lord, uplifted high,
With outstretched arms, in mortal woe,
Embracing in Thy wondrous love
The sinful world that lies below:
4
Give us an ever-living faith,
To gaze beyond the things we see;
And in the mystery of Thy death
Draw us and all men unto Thee.