‘Twas for my Sake, eternal GOD,
Thy Son sustain’d that heavy Load
Of base Reproach and sore Disgrace,
And Shame defil’d his sacred Face.

The Jews, his Brethren and his Kin,
Abus’d the Man that check’d their Sin:
While he fulfill’d thy holy Laws
That hate him, but without a Cause.

[My Father’s House, said he, was made,
A Place for Worship, not for Trade:
Then scatt’ring all their Gold and Brass,
He scourg’d the Merchants from the Place.]

[Zeal for the Temple of his GOD,
Consum’d his Life, expos’d his Blood;
Reproaches at thy Glory thrown
He felt, and mourn’d ’em as his own.]

[His Friends forsook, his Followers fled,
While Foes and Arms surround his Head;
They curse him with a slad’rous Tongue,
And the false Judge maintains the Wrong.]

His Life they load with hateful Lies,
And charge his Lips with Blasphemies;
They nail him to the shameful Tree;
There hung the Man that dy’d for me.

[Wretches, with Hearts as hard as Stones,
Insult his Piety and Groans;
Gall was the Food they gave him there,
And mock’d his Thirst with Vinegar.]

But GOD beheld; and from his Throne
Marks out the Men that hate his Son;
The Hand that rais’d him from the Dead,
Shall pour the Vengeance on their Head.