Stricken Smitten Afflicted
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Stricken, smitten, and afflicted, see Him dying on the tree.
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'Tis the Christ by man rejected; yes, my soul, 'tis He, 'tis He.
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'Tis the long expected Prophet, David's Son, yet David's Lord;
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By his Son God now has spoken: 'tis the true and faithful Word.
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Tell me, ye who hear Him groaning, was there ever grief like His.
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Friends through fear His cause disowning, foes insulting his distress;
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Many hands were raised to wound Him, none would interpose to save;
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But the deepest stroke that pierced Him was the stroke that justice gave.
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Ye who think of sin but lightly nor suppose the evil great;
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Here may view its nature rightly, here its guilt may estimate.
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Mark the sacrifice appointed, see who bears the awful load;
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'Tis the Word, the Lord's Anointed, Son of Man and Son of God.
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Here we have a firm foundation, here the refuge of the lost;
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Christ the rock of our salvation, His the name of which we boast.
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Lamb of God, for sinners wounded, sacrifice to cancel guilt.
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None shall ever be confounded who on Him their hope have built.
Last updated on 19 Jan 2024
Published on 19 Jan 2024