1 The Saviour came, no outward pomp
Bespoke his presence nigh;
No earthly glories shone in him,
To draw the carnal eye.

2 Fair as a beauteous tender flower,
Amidst the desert grows;
So slighted bya rebel race,
The heavenly Saviour rose.

3 Rejected and despised of men,
He was a man of woe,
Grief was his close companion still,
Through all his life below.

4 Yet all the grief he felt was ours,
Ours were the woes he bore;
Pangs not his own, his spotless soul
With bitter anguish tore.

5 Then thought he was condemned of heaven,
An outcast from his God;
While for our sins he groaned and bled,
Benedath his Father's rod.

6 He died to bear our guilt away,
That sin might be forgiven;
He lives to bless us and defend,
And plead our cause in heaven.