1 SAVIOUR, though the world despised Thee,
All God's angels to Thee bow;
And the Father's glory raised Thee,
When man's hatred laid Thee low;
Lord of glory,
Blessed evermore art Thou.
2 In that hour of shame unbounded,
When Thine own in terror fled,
When God's plans seemed all confounded
In Thee on the tree seen dead,
Then, blest Saviour,
Was the great atonement made.
3 Oh, for grace to share Thy sorrow
Where Thou, Lord, wast crucified!
While we wait the cloudless morrow
When Thou reignest glorified;
Now Thy body, then Thy bride.