The Crucifixion. Ps. 22. 11-18; 69. 19-21

J. Hart   C.M.

Oh! what a sad and doleful night
Preceded that day’s morn,
When darkness seized the Lord of light,
And sin by Christ was borne!

When our intolerable load
Upon his soul was laid,
And the vindictive wrath of God
Flamed furious on his head!

We in our Conqueror well may boast;
For none but God alone
Can know how dear the victory cost,
How hardly it was won.

[Forth from the garden fully tried,
Our bruisèd Champion came,
To suffer what remained beside
Of pain, and grief, and shame.

Mocked, spit upon, and crowned with thorn,
A spectacle he stood;
His back with scourges lashed and torn;
A victim bathed in blood.

Nailed to the cross through hands and feet,
He hung in open view;
To make his sorrows quite complete,
By God deserted too!]

Through nature’s works the woes he felt
With soft infection ran;
The hardest thing could break or melt,
Except the heart of man.

This day before thee, Lord, we come;
O melt our hearts, or break;
For, should we now continue dumb,
The very stones would speak.

[True, thou hast paid the heavy debt,
And made believers clean,
But he knows nothing of it yet,
Who is not grieved at sin.

A faithful friend of grief partakes;
But union can be none
Betwixt a heart like melting wax
And hearts as hard as stone;

Betwixt a head diffusing blood
And members sound and whole;
Betwixt an agonising God
And an unfeeling soul.]

Lord, my longed happiness is full,
When I can go with thee
To Golgotha; the place of skull
Is heaven on earth to me.


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