Down from the portals of glory
A King in His majesty came,
Humbled Himself as a servant,
To bear our transgressions and shame;
He was despised and rejected,
Hated by those He would save,
Yet He so loved guilty sinners,
That freely His life-blood He gave.
Look at Him dying,
Bleeding for thee;
Though thou hast slighted Him often,
Still, sinner, He’s pleading for thee.
Down in Gethsemane’s garden,
Behold Him in agony there,
Guilt of the world laid upon Him,
To Calvary’s summit to bear;
Yet there is none that can help Him-
Must He thus suffer alone,
Innocent stand for the guilty,
And die for their sins to atone?
See Him led forth as a captive,
His presence the multitude scorns;
See them array Him in purple,
And cruelly crown Him with thorns,
Lead Him outside of the city,
Nail Him on Calvary’s tree;
Look on Him there, guilty sinner,
He’s bleeding and dying for thee.