What Source Of Love

What source of love is this
who’s will it was
to crush his Son with pain?

From what spring does flow
a love desiring such a thing unknown
His beloved Son to be condemned
and mocked, and crucified?

Who is this Son
While in the garden cries alone
returns a love from anguished heart

“Not my will but yours be done.”

With a kiss is then betrayed
and seized and taken away.
Behold such love
in silence no resistance makes
to jeering crowds and soldiers' scoff.

Is it not I gone astray
whose sins like scarlet darkens day
be nailed to bleed upon the tree?

This source of unimagined love instead
takes upon himself my grievous faults
and casts them to a raging sea
the while forgiving to his final breath.

With contrite heart and tearful eye
I kneel before such Love
and will forever drink
the fountain of His Precious Blood.