Christ was all anguish that I might be all joy,
Cast off that I might be brought in,
Trodden down as an enemy that I might be welcomed as a friend,
Surrendered to hell's worst that I might attain heaven's best,
Stripped that I might be clothed,
Wounded that I might be healed,
Athirst that I might drink,
Tormented that I might be comforted,
Made a shame that I might inherit glory,
Entered darkness that I might have eternal light.
My Savior wept that all tears might be wiped from my eyes,
Groaned that I might have endless song,
Endured all pain that I might have unfading health,
Bore a thorny crown that I might have a glory-diadem,
Bowed his head that I might uplift mine,
Experienced reproach that I might receive welcome,
Closed his eyes in death that I might gaze on unclouded brightness,
Expired that I might for ever live.
O Father, who spared not thine only Son that thou mightest spare me,
All this transfer thy love designed and accomplished;
Help me to adore thee by lips and life.
- Puritan prayer, from The Valley of Vision