Was it for me, for me alone,
The Saviour left His glorious throne,
The dazzling splendors of the sky?
Was it for me, He came to die?
Was it for me sweet angel strains
Came floating o’er Judea’s plains,
That starlight night, so long ago?
Was it for me God planned it so?
Was it for me the Saviour said,
Pillow thy weary, aching head
Trustingly on thy Saviour’s breast?
Was it for me? Can I thus rest?
Was it for me He wept and prayed,
My had of sin upon Hine laid,
That night within Gethsemane?
Was it for me—that agony?
Was it for me He bowed His head
Upon the cross, and freely shed
His precious blood—that crimson tide?
Was it for me the Saviour died?
It was for me, yes, all for me,
O, love of God, so great, so free,
O wondrons love! I’ll shout and sing,
He died for me, my Lord the King.
ML 08/09/1942