My Savior Hanging On The Tree

My Saviour hanging on the tree,
In agonies and blood,
Methought once turn’d his eyes on me,
As near His cross I stood.

Sure, never, till my latest breath,
Can I forget that look:
It seem’d to charge me with his death,
Though not a word he spoke.

My conscience felt and own’d the guilt,
And plung’d me in despair;
I saw my sins his blood had spilt,
And help’d to nail him there.

Alas! I knew not what I did;
But now my tears are vain;
Where shall my trembling soul be hid?
For I the Lord have slain;

A second look he gave, which said
“I freely all forgive;
“This blood is for thy ransom paid,
“I die that thou may’st live.”

Thus, while his death my sin displays
In all its blackest hue,
(Such is the mystery of grace,)
It seals my pardon too.

-Palm Leaves, , No.