Verse 1
How deep the Father’s love for us,
how vast beyond all measure
that He should give His on-ly Son
to make a wretch His treasure.
How great the pain of sear-ing loss.
The Father turns His face away
as wounds which mar the Cho-sen One
bring many sons to glo-ry.
Verse 2
Behold the Man upon the cross,
my sin upon His shoul-ders.
Ashamed, I hear my mock-ing voice
call out among the scoffers.
It was my sin that held Him there
until it was accom-plished;
His dying breath has brought me life.
I know that it is fin-ished.
Verse 3
I will not boast in an-y- thing:
no gifts, no pow’r, no wis-dom.
But I will boast in Je-sus Christ:
His death and resurrection.
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an an-swer.
But this I know with all my heart:
His wounds have paid my ransom.
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