The Wondering World Inquires to Know

The won­der­ing world in­quires to know

Why I should love my Je­sus so:

What are His charms

say they

ab­ove

The ob­jects of a mor­tal love?

Yes! my be­lov­èd

to my sight

Shows a sweet mix­ture

red and white:

All hu­man beau­ties

all div­ine

In my be­lov­èd meet and shine.

White is His soul

from blem­ish free;

Red with the blood He shed for me;

The fair­est of ten thou­sand fairs;

A sun among ten thou­sand stars.

His head the fin­est gold ex­cels;

There wis­dom in per­fect­ion dwells

And glo­ry like a crown ad­orns

Those tem­ples once be­set with thorns.

Compassions in His heart are found

Hard by the sig­nals of His wound:

His sac­red side no more shall bear

The cru­el scourge

the pierc­ing spear.

His hands are fair­er to be­hold

Than dia­monds set in rings of gold;

Those heav’n­ly hands

that on the tree

Were nailed

and torn

and bled for me!

Though once He bowed His fee­ble knees

Loaded with sins and ago­nies

Now on the throne of His com­mand

His legs like mar­ble pil­lars stand.

His eyes are ma­jes­ty and love

The ea­gle tem­pered with the dove;

No more shall trick­ling sor­rows roll

Through those dear win­dows of His soul.

His mouth

that poured out long com­plaints

Now smiles and cheers His faint­ing saints;

His coun­te­nance more grace­ful is

Than Le­ba­non with all its trees.

All ov­er glo­ri­ous is my Lord;

Must be be­loved

and yet adored;

His worth if all the na­tions knew

Sure the whole earth would love Him

too.