Stricken, Smitten and Afflicted

Stricken, smitten, and afflicted See Him dying on the tree 'Tis the Christ by man rejected Yes, my soul, 'tis He, 'tis He 'Tis the long-expected prophet David's Son, yet David's Lord By His Son, God now has spoken 'Tis the true and faithful Word Tell me, ye who hear him groaning Was there ever grief like his? Friends thro' fear his cause disowning Foes insulting his distress Many hands were raised to wound him None would interpose to save Yet the deepest stroke that pierced him Was the stroke that Justice gave Ye who think of sin but lightly Nor suppose the evil great Here may view its nature rightly Here its guilt may estimate Mark the sacrifice appointed See who bears the awful load 'Tis the Word, the Lord's Anointed Son of Man and Son of God Here we have a firm foundation Here the refuge of the lost Christ's the Rock of our salvation His the name of which we boast Lamb of God, for sinners wounded Sacrifice to cancel guilt None shall ever be confounded Who on him their hope have built