When Jesus, both of God and men,
Was treated as a thief,
His body felt amazing pain,
His soul amazing grief.

He bore our sins; our sorrows fell
Like mountains on his soul;
Like rising seas he saw them swell,
Like raging billows roll.

Himself to friends and foes a friend,
No friendly hand he found,
That could the least assistance lend
When dogs beset him round.

No weeping friend his bosom lent
To rest his drooping head;
With gaping wounds his flesh was rent,
His wounds unpity'd bled.

Alone he stood, alone he fell,
Alone the Conqu'ror rose,
Alone he burst the bars of hell,
And trampled on his foes!