From Calvary a cry was heard—

A bitter and heart-rending cry:

My Saviour! every mournful word

Bespeaks thy soul’s deep agony.

2 A horror of great darkness fell

On thee, thou spotless holy One!

And all the swarming hosts of hell

Conspired to tempt God’s only Son.

3 The scourge, the thorns, the deep disgrace—

These thou couldst bear, nor once repine;

But when Jehovah vailed his face,

Unutterable pangs were thine.

4 Let the dumb world its silence break;

Let pealing anthems rend the sky;

Awake, my sluggish soul, awake!

He died, that we might never die.

5 Lord! on thy cross I fix mine eye;

If e’er I lose its strong control,

O! let that dying, piercing cry,

Melt and reclaim my wandering soul.

O Lord! when faith with fixÉd eyes

Beholds thy wondrous sacrifice,

Love rises to an ardent flame,

And we all other hope disclaim.

2 With cold affections who can see

The thorns, the scourge, the nails, the tree,

The flowing tears and crimson sweat,

The bleeding hands, and head, and feet?

3 Jesus, what millions of our race

Have seen the triumphs of thy grace!

And millions more to thee shall fly,

And on thy sacrifice rely.

Have we no tears to shed for him,

While soldiers scoff, and Jews deride?

Ah! look, how patiently he hangs—

Jesus, our Love, is crucified!

2 What was thy crime, my dearest Lord?

By earth, by heaven, thou hast been tried,

And guilty found of too much love;

Jesus, our Love, is crucified!

3 Found guilty of excess of love,

It was thine own sweet will that tied

Thee tighter far than helpless nails;

Jesus, our Love, is crucified!

4 O break, O break, hard heart of mine!

Thy weak self-love and guilty pride

His Pilate and his Judas were;

Jesus, our Love, is crucified!

Behold the Man! how glorious he!

Before his foes he stands unawed,

And, without wrong or blasphemy,

He claims equality with God.

2 Behold the Man! by all condemned,

Assaulted by a host of foes;

His person and his claims contemned:

A Man of suffering and of woes.

3 Behold the Man! he stands alone,

His foes are ready to devour;

Not one of all his friends will own

Their Master in this trying hour.

He dies, the friend of winners dies!

Lo! Salem’s daughters weep around!

A solemn darkness vails the skies,

A sudden trembling shakes the ground.

2 Here’s love and grief beyond degree!

The Lord of glory dies for men!

But, lo! what sudden joys we see—

Jesus the dead revives again!

3 The rising Lord forsakes the tomb!

(The tomb in vain forbids his rise!)

Cherubic legions guard him home,

And shout him welcome to the skies!

4 Break off your tears, you saints, and tell

How high our great Deliverer reigns;

Sing how he spoiled the hosts of hell,

And led the monster Death in chains.

5 Say, “Live for ever, wondrous King!

Born to redeem, and strong to save!”

Then ask the monster, “Where’s thy sting?

And where’s thy victory, boasting grave?”

And did the holy and the just,

The Sovereign of the skies,

Stoop down to wretchedness and dust

That guilty man might rise?

2 Yes, the Redeemer left his throne,

His radiant throne on high;

Surpassing mercy! love unknown!

To suffer, bleed, and die.

We sing the Saviour’s wondrous death—

He conquered when he fell:

’Tis finished, said his dying breath,

And shook the gates of hell.

2 ’Tis finished, our Immanuel cries,

The dreadful work is done;

Hence shall his sovereign throne arise,

His kingdom is begun.

3 His cross a sure foundation laid

For glory and renown,

When through the regions of the dead

He passed to reach the crown.

4 Raise your devotion, mortal tongues,

His praises to record;

Sweet be the accents of your songs

To your victorious Lord.

5 Bright angels, strike your loudest strings,

Your sweetest voices raise;

Let heaven and all created things

Sound our Immanuel’s praise!

Behold the Saviour of mankind

Nailed to the shameful tree!

How vast the love that him inclined

To bleed and die for me!

As on the cross the Saviour hung,

And groaned, and bled, and died,

He looked with pity on a wretch

That languished by his side.

2 The dying thief in Jesus saw

A majesty divine;

While scoffing Jews around him stood,

And asked him for a sign!

3 The kingdom, Lord, is thine, he said;

’Tis thine o’er men to reign:

Thy wondrous works thy lordship prove,

These pains thy love proclaim:

4 Honors divine await thee soon,

A scepter and a crown:

With shame thy foes shall yet behold

Thee seated on a throne.

5 Then, gracious Lord, remember me!

Is not forgiveness thine?

My crimes have brought me to thy side—

Thy love brought thee to mine!

O sacred head, now wounded,

With grief and shame weighed down—

O sacred brow, surrounded

With thorns, thine only crown:

Once on a throne of glory,

Adorned with light divine;

Now all despised and gory,

I joy to call thee mine.

2 On me, as thou art dying,

O, turn thy pitying eye;

To thee for mercy crying,

Before thy cross I lie.

Thine, thine the bitter passion;

Thy pain is all for me;

Mine, mine the deep transgression;

My sins are all on thee.

3 What language can I borrow

To praise thee, heavenly Friend,

For all this dying sorrow,

Of all my woes the end?

O, can I leave thee ever?

Then do not thou leave me;

Lord, let me never, never

Outlive my love to thee.

4 Be near when I am dying;

Then close beside me stand;

Let me, while faint and sighing,

Lean calmly on thy hand:

These eyes, new faith receiving,

From thee shall never move,

For he who dies believing,

Dies safely—in thy love.