415

Come and see, come and see

Come and see, come and see,
come and see the King of love,
see the purple robe and crown of thorn he wears.
Soldiers mock, rulers sneer
as he lifts the cruel cross,
lone and friendless now he climbs towards the hill.
We worship at your feet where wrath and mercy meet
and a guilty world is washed by love’s pure stream.

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