What if my heart should feel
The load my Saviour felt
When for my sins He prayed, and wept,
And bled, as there He knelt?
What if my lips should touch
The cup my Saviour met
When in His agony of soul
He wrestled with my debt?
What if my hands and feet
Were nailed to Calv’ry’s cross,
That for my sins could not atone,
Nor take away my dross?
What if this heart of mine
Were pierced with cruel spear?
Yea, death itself would surely fail
To make my record clear.
Chorus
None but the sinless Man,
The apple of God’s eye,
Could pay redemption’s fearful price,
And so He had to die!
French E. Oliver
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