He died for me

I saw One hanging on a tree,
In agony and blood;
Who fixed His languid eyes on me,
As near the cross I stood.

Sure, never, till my latest breath,
Can I forget that look:
It seem'd to charge me with His death
Though not a word He spoke.

Alas! I knew not what I did--
But now my tears are vain;
Where shall my trembling soul be hid,
For I the Lord have slain!

A second look He gave, that said,
"I freely all forgive:
This blood is for thy ransom paid;
I die that thou may'st live."

Thus while His death my sin displays
In all its blackest hue,
Such is the mystery of grace,
It seals my pardon too!