My Lord, My Master, At Thy Feet Adoring

Verse 1

My Lord, my Master, at thy feet adoring, I see thee bowed beneath thy load of woe: for me, a sinner, is thy life-blood pouring; for thee, my Saviour, scarce my tears will flow.

Verse 2

Thine own disciple to the Jews has sold thee, with friendship's kiss and loyal word he came; how oft of faithful love my lips have told thee, while thou hast seen my falsehood and my shame!

Verse 3

With taunts and scoffs they mock what seems thy weakness, with blows and outrage adding pain to pain; thou art unmoved and steadfast in thy meekness; when I am wronged, how quickly I complain!

Verse 4

My Lord, my Saviour, when I see thee wearing upon thy bleeding brow the crown of thorn, shall I for pleasure live, or shrink from bearing whate'er my lot may be of pain or scorn?

Verse 5

O victim of thy love! O pangs most healing! O saving death! O wounds that I adore! O shame most glorious! Christ, before thee kneeling, I pray thee keep me thine for evermore.