Between Two Worlds

Christ was all anguish
that I might be all joy,

cast off
that I might be brought in,

trodden down as an enemy
that I might be welcomed as a friend,

surrendered to hell’s worst
that I might attain heaven’s best,

stripped
that I might be clothed,

wounded
that I might be healed,

athirst
that I might drink,

tormented
that I might be comforted,

made a shame
that I might inherit glory,

entered darkness
that I might have eternal light.

My Saviour wept
that all tears might be wiped from my eyes,

groaned
that I might have endless song,

endured all pain
that I might have unfading health,

bore a thorny crown
that I might have a glory-diadem,

bowed his head
that I might uplift mine,

experienced reproach
that I might receive welcome,

closed his eyes in death
that I might gaze on unclouded brightness,

expired
that I might for ever live.

O Father, who spared not thine only Son that thou mightest spare me,
All this transfer thy love designed and accomplished;
Help me to adore thee by lips and life.
O that my every breath might be ecstatic praise, my every step buoyant with delight. . .