SUCH grief was Thine, such deep distress, Such pain, O Christ, intense and real, Subject to all the pangs of death, And such forsakenness to feel.
The powers of darkness hem Thee round, Malice with rage and hatred roar, And human nature melts like wax, As life and strength to death outpour.
No sorrows more, no greater hurt, No more humiliation sore, No greater judgement, heavier stroke, Has ever been, nor evermore.
For Thou hast borne a host of hells To raise our souls to life above; That we may glorify Thy name And feed upon Thy glorious love.
Such sorrows never shall be mine! My Lord has borne them all away; O may this heart to all declare Thy lovingkindness every day.
Evangelical Psalter © The Wakeman Trust