Easter Reflections: The Soul's Lament

The Soul's Lament

It was my sin, Lord Jesus,

That nailed Thee to the tree;

It was my guilt that 'pressed Thee

In sad Gethsemane.

My soul on Thee relying,

In Thy death findeth life,

And peace I have eternal,

Through Thy most bitter strife.

Thy blood secures my pardon,

Thy darkness gives me light;

And I, since God forsook Thee,

Find favor in His sight.

Yet do I sin, Lord Jesus,

As though no grace had sought,

As though by blood most precious 

My soul were never bought.

Sure, heaven beholds in wonder

A love so rich as Thine;

Sure, hell must see astonished

A sin so base as mine.

Cannot Thy cross, Lord Jesus,

My evil heart restrain?

Or hast Thou borne its anguish 

And died for me in vain?

'T is not enough to pardon

For more than this I pray;

I crave a holy hatred 

Of every evil way.

Lord Jesus, by Thy dying

I to my sin would die,

And with Thee, Saviour, rising,

No more in bondage lie.

Lord, I would bring as captive

Each thought to saving love;

So may a life of service 

Precede the life above.

-Robert Marshall Offord