There’s a Hill Lone and Grey

There’s a hill lone and grey

In a land far away

In a coun­try be­yond the blue sea

Where be­neath that fair sky

Went a Man forth to die

For the world and for you and for me.

Oh

it bows down my heart

And the tear­drops will start

When in me­mo­ry that grey hill I see.

For ’twas there on its side

Jesus suf­fered and died

To re­deem a poor sin­ner like me.

Behold! faint on the road

’Neath a world’s hea­vy load

Comes a thorn crown­èd Man on the way

With a cross He is bowed

But still on through the crowd

He’s as­cend­ing that hill lone and grey.

Hark! I hear the dull blow

Of the ham­mer swung low;

They are nail­ing my Lord to the tree

And the cross they up­raised

While the mul­ti­tude gaze

On the blest Lamb of dark Cal­va­ry.

How they mock Him in death

To His last la­bor­ing breath

While His friends sad­ly weep o’er the way;

But though lone­ly and faint

Still no word of com­plaint

Fell from Him on the hill lone and grey.

Then the dark­ness came down

And the rocks rent around

And a cry pierced the grief laden air;

’Twas the voice of our king

Who re­ceived death’s dark sting

All to save us from end­less des­pair.

Let the sun hide its face

Let the earth reel apace

Over men who their Sav­ior have slain;

But be­hold from the sod

Comes the blest Lamb of God

Who was slain and is ris­en again.