tr., John Brownlie
When Thou, O Christ, upon the tree,
Wert bearing pain for sinful men,
The sun, lamenting, hid his face,
And clothed himself with darkness then;
And o'er the world, when noontide came,
The light grew faint and faded soon;
And men in wonder saw the dark
Bring in the night at hour of noon.
But, low in Hades' depths there shone
Such light as never shone before;
And prisoners saw the Light of lights,
And joyed to feel their bondage o'er.
O blessed art Thou, Christ, our Lord,
For all the pain so meekly borne;
The dark that hid Thee in Thy woe,
Has ushered in a glorious morn.