Hymns on the Lord's Supper, 23

Hearts of stone, relent, relent,
Break, by Jesu's cross subdued;
See His body mangled, rent,
Cover'd with a gore of blood!
Sinful soul, what hast thou done?
Murder'd God's eternal Son!

Yes, our sins have done the deed,
Drove the nails that fix Him here,
Crown'd with thorns His sacred head,
Pierced Him with a soldier's spear,
Made His soul a sacrifice;
For a sinful world He dies.

Shall we let Him die in vain,
Still to death pursue our God?
Open tear His wounds again,
Trample on His precious blood?
No; with all our sins we part:
Saviour, take my broken heart!