God what am I to be,
but a humble servant of thee.
You bled and hung on a tree,
because You first loved me.
God, my God, what mercy you bestowed,
the penalty I owed,
the fierce wrath of an infinite Being,
from which I would be fleeing.
My God My God why has though forsaken me,
was my cry meant to be.
But bestowed on Another,
Your Son, and now My brother.
O, fixing my gaze,
on your bountiful grace,
I will run this race,
with a heart ablaze,
I will sing aloud Your Holy praise.
O God my God what am I to be,
but a humble servant of thee.