|
|
| |
|
A story most lovely I'll tell,
Of Jesus (O wondrous surprise!)
He suffered the torments of hell,
That sinners, vile sinners might rise:
He left his exalted abode,
When man by transgression was lost;
Appeasing the wrath of a God,
He shed forth his blood as the cost.
O, did my dear Jesus thus bleed,
And pity a ruined lost race!
O, whence did such mercy proceed,
Such boundless
compassion and grace!
His body bore anguish and pain,
His spirit 'most sunk with the load;
A short time before he was slain,
His sweat was as great drops of blood.
O, was it for crimes I had done,
The Savior was hailed with a kiss!
By Judas the traitor alone;
Was ever compassion like this?
The ruffians all joined in a band,
Confined him and led him away,
The cords wrapped around
his sweet hands,
O sinner! look at him I pray.
To Pilate's stone pillar when led,
His body was lashed with whips:
It never by any was said,
A railing word dropped from his lips:
They made him a crown out of thorns;
The smote him and did him abuse;
The clothed him with crimson, in scorn,
And hailed him, the King of the Jews.
They loaded the Lamb with the cross,
And drove him up Calvary's hill;
Come, mourners, a moment and pause,
All nature looked solemn and still!
They rushed the nails
through his hands,
Transfixed and tortured his feet;
O brethren, see passive he stands;
To look at the sight it is great!
He cried, My Father, my God,
Forsaken! thou'st left me in pain!
The cross was all colored with blood,
The temple vail bursted in twain:
He groaned his last and he died,
The sun it refused to shine;
They rushed the spear in his side;
This lovely Redeemer is mine.
He fought the hard battle, and won
The victory, and gives it most free:
O Christians! look forward and run,
In hopes that his kingdom you'll see;
When he in the clouds shall appear,
With angels all at his command,
And thousands of Christians be there,
All singing with harps in a band.
How pleasant an happy the view!
Enjoying such beams of delight!
His beauty to Christians he'll show,
O Jesus, I long for the sight!
I long to mount up in the skies,
In Paradise make my abode,
And sing of salvation on high,
And rest with a pacified God.
|
marker 99
|
LYRICS
|
Meter:
|
8 8 8 8 D (D.L.M.)
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Trans/Adapted:
|
| |
Dates:
|
|
|
Bible Refs:
|
|
MUSIC
|
Name:
|
THE SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST
|
|
Meter:
|
8 8 8 8 D (D.L.M.)
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Dates:
|
|
ALTERNATIVE TUNES
|
Name
|
meter
|
| 8 8 8 8 D (D.L.M.) |
echo ' | ';
|
Hymn Writer
