Cross of Jesus (Sparrow-Simpson)

Cross of Je­sus

cross of sor­row

Where the blood of Christ was shed

Perfect Man on thee did suf­fer

Perfect God on thee has bled!

Here the king of all the ag­es

Throned in light ere worlds could be

Robed in mor­tal flesh is dy­ing

Crucified by sin for me.

O mys­te­ri­ous con­des­cend­ing!

O aban­don­ment sub­lime!

Very God Him­self is bear­ing

All the suf­fer­ings of time!

Evermore for hu­man fail­ure

By His pass­ion we can plead;

God has born all mor­tal ang­uish

Surely He will know our need.

This—all hu­man thought sur­pass­ing—

This is earth’s most aw­ful hour

God has tak­en mor­tal weak­ness!

God has laid aside His pow­er!

Once the Lord of bril­liant ser­aphs

Winged with love to do His will

Now the scorn of all His crea­tures

And the aim of ev­ery ill.

Up in Heav­en

sub­lim­est glo­ry

Circled round Him from the first;

But the earth finds none to serve Him

None to quench His rag­ing thirst.

Who shall fa­thom that des­cend­ing

From the rain­bow cir­cled throne

Down to earth’s most base pro­fan­ing

Dying de­so­late alone.

From the Ho­ly

Ho­ly

Ho­ly

We adore Thee

O most High

Down to earth’s blas­phem­ing voic­es

And the shout of Cru­ci­fy.

Cross of Je­sus

cross of sor­row

Where the blood of Christ was shed

Perfect Man on thee did suf­fer

Perfect God on thee has bled!