A purple robe, a crown of thorn, a reed in his right hand; before the soldiers' spite and scorn I see my Savior stand. He bears between the Roman guard the weight of all our woe; a stumbling figure bowed and scarred I see my Savior go. Fast to the cross's spreading span, high in the sunlit air, all the unnumbered sins of man I see my Savior bear. He hangs, by whom the world was made, beneath the darkened sky; the everlasting ransom paid, I see my Savior die. He shares on high his Father's throne, who once in mercy came; for all his love to sinners shown I sing my Savior's Name.
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