I saw One hanging on a tree, In agony and blood; He fixed His languid eyes on me, As near His cross I stood. Oh, can it be, upon a tree The Savior died for me? My soul is thrilled, My heart is filled, To think He died for me! Sure, never, till my latest breath, Can I forget that look: It seemed to charge me with His death, Tho' not a word He spoke. Oh, can it be, upon a tree The Savior died for me? My soul is thrilled, My heart is filled, To think He died for me! My conscience felt and owned the guilt, And plunged me in despair; I saw my sins His blood had spilt And helped to nail Him there. Oh, can it be, upon a tree The Savior died for me? My soul is thrilled, My heart is filled, To think He died for me! Alas! I know not what I did, But now my tears are vain: Where shall my trembling soul be hid? For I the Lord have slain. Oh, can it be, upon a tree The Savior died for me? My soul is thrilled, My heart is filled, To think He died for me! 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." Oh, can it be, upon a tree The Savior died for me? My soul is thrilled, My heart is filled, To think He died for me!