1 Come, let our mournful songs record
The dying sorrows of our Lord,
When he expir'd in shame and blood,
Like one forsaken of his God.

2 The Jews beheld him thus forlorn,
And shook their heads, and laugh'd in scorn;
"He rescu'd others from the grave;
Now let him try himself to save."

3 O harden'd people! cruel priests!
How they stood round like savage beasts!
Like lions gaping to devour,
When God had left him in their pow'r!

4 They wound his head, his hands, his feet,
Till streams of blood each other meet:
By lot his garments they divide,
And mock the pangs in which he died.

5 But, gracious God! thy pow'r and love
Have made his death a blessing prove.
Tho' once upon the cross he bled,
Immortal honours crown his head.

6 Thro' Christ the Son our guilt forgive,
And let the mourning sinner live!
The Lord will hear us in his name;
Nor shall our hope be turn'd to shame.