On Calvary (Rexford)

Sometimes a vi­sion comes to me

Of Christ

my Lord

on Cal­va­ry.

I see Him climb the rug­ged road

Bowed down be­neath His aw­ful load.

I hear the mock­ing rab­ble’s cry

I see the scoff­ing hosts go by;

But on He press­es

weak and faint:

He fal­ters not

nor makes com­plaint.

O Christ

my Sav­ior

Thou couldst see

The swift­ly near­ing tra­ge­dy;

Already in Thy hands could feel

The tor­ture of the cruel steel.

Thy heart was break­ing ’neath the weight

Of man’s great sin—but O

so great

The love

that Thou Thy life couldst give

That all who look to Thee might live.

O blest Re­deem­er

nev­er let

My heart for one brief hour for­get

How much the sin­ner owes to Thee;

Nor that the sin­ner mean­eth me!

O help me feel what love was Thine

What pity

won­drous and di­vine

That Thou shouldst bear the cross for me

And die on cruel Cal­va­ry.