If Thou, Lord God, willest to judge

This Thy most piteous clay,

Which to save, Christ did not grudge

His red dying I should say:

"Now I interpose His death

'Twixt these children and Thy wrath."

Then if Thou should'st say, "Their shame

Is as scarlet in Mine eyes,"

I should ask, "Who bare the blame?

Look on Thy Son's sacrifice!

His dear Blood is far more bright

That shall wash the scarlet white."

Still if Thou Thy frown must keep

And Thine eyes Thou dost avert

(Ah! dear Shepherd of the Sheep)

I will say, "Who took the hurt?

I present Christ's death and pain

'Twixt Thine anger and these slain."

Dear, they die in millions

For a quarrel not their own;

Look to this poor flock, Thy Son's,

Harried all and overthrown.

See, I lay Christ's Cross between

Dear, Thy justice and their sin.