tr., John Brownlie
They set the Cross upon a hill,
And led Him forth to die;
And while the wondering heavens were still,
They nailed the Christ on high.
And hosts beheld in blank dismay,
The power to sinners given,
To raise their wicked hands to slay
The mighty King of Heaven.
O patience of Almighty God!
O love of Christ the Son!
To lie beneath the awful rod,
Until the task was done.
O sin of man! O cruel sin!
Who can its vileness tell?
That slew the Christ Who came to win
The souls He loved so well.
Praise to Thy Cross, Immortal Christ!
For Thou didst die to live;
And that the gift of life, unpriced,
Thou mightst to sinners give.