Upon the Cross I see Him nailed,
The man of Nazareth;
His brow is pierced, His visage paled
With sufferings of death.
Around Him gather those who hate
And those who love Him most
To watch His sin-appointed fate
With grief or ruthless boast;
And as His pleading face I scan
All history cries—“Behold the Man!”
His wounded hands and feet I see,
The fountain from His side;
O Calvary, O Calvary,
Behold the Crucified!
Yet not the cruel thorns are worst
Nor blood of anguish spilt,
But that the sinless One is curst
For all the race’s guilt;
And as His pleading face I scan
All history cries—“Behold the Man!”