Wounds of love

A sharp and cruel crown of thorns
the brow of Jesus Christ adorns
as down from His wounded head
crimson drops of blood were shed.

Wounds of love borne in my stead
from those thorns upon His head.
Jesus wore that crown for me,
and suffered there to set me free.

They raised the whip in their hatred
and scourged His back until it bled.
Lash by lash my sins price He paid
as by each stripe His back was flayed.

'Forgive them Father', was His cry
as He bowed down His head to die.
From His hands, side and feet I see
those wounds of love He’d borne for me.

Such Love like this I'd never known
that He should die my love to own.
I do not deserve love like this;
a love so wonderful as His.

Jan Bagwell

God Bless !