1 So fair a face bedewed with tears;
What beauty e’en in grief appears!
He wept, he bled, he died for you;
What more, ye saints, could Jesus do?

2 Enthroned above, with equal glow
His warm affections downward flow;
In our distress he bears a part,
And feels a sympathetic smart.

3 Still his compassions are the same;
He knows the frailty of our frame;
Our heaviest burdens he sustains;
Shares in our sorrows and our pains.