My sins laid open to the rod,
The back which from the law was free;
And the eternal Son of God
Received the stripes once due to me.

No beam was in His eye, nor mote,
Nor laid to Him was any blame;
And yet His cheeks for me were smote—
The cheeks that never blushed for shame.

I pierced those sacred hands and feet
That never touched or walked in sin;
I broke the heart that only beat
The souls of sinful men to win.

That sponge of vinegar and gall
Was placed by me upon His tongue;
And when derision mocked His call,
I stood that mocking crowd among.

And yet His blood was shed for me,
To be of sin the double cure;
And balm there flows from Calvary’s tree
That heals my guilt and makes me pure.