Words: Isaac Watts
There is also a Common Metre version on this page.
Christ’s sufferings and exaltation.
1 Now let our mournful songs record The dying sorrows of our Lord, When he complained in tears and blood, As one forsaken of his God.
2 The Jews beheld him thus forlorn, And shake their heads, and laugh in scorn: “He rescued others from the grave; Now let him try himself to save.
3 “This is the man did once pretend God was his Father and his Friend If God the blessed loved him so, Why doth he fail to help him now?”
4 Barbarous people! cruel priests! How they stood round like savage beasts! Like lions gaping to devour, When God had left him in their power.
5 They wound his head, his hands, his feet, Till streams of blood each other meet; By lot his garments they divide, And mock the pangs in which he died.
6 But God, his Father, heard his cry; Raised from the dead, he reigns on high, The nations learn his righteousness, And humble sinners taste his grace.
Part 1: v.1–16 The sufferings and death of Christ.
1 Why has my God my soul forsook, Nor will a smile afford? (Thus David once in anguish spoke, And thus our dying Lord.)
2 Though ’tis thy chief delight to dwell Among thy praising saints, Yet thou canst hear a groan as well, And pity our complaints.
3 Our fathers trusted in thy name, And great deliv’rance found; But I’m a worm, despised of men, And trodden to the ground.
4 Shaking the head, they pass me by, And laugh my soul to scorn; “In vain he trusts in God,” they cry,. “Neglected and forlorn.”
5 But thou art he who formed my flesh By thine almighty word; And since I hung upon the breast, My hope is in the Lord.
6 Why will my Father hide his face, When foes stand threat’ning round, In the dark hour of deep distress, And not a helper found?
7 Behold thy darling left among The cruel and the proud, As bulls of Bashan, fierce and strong, As lions roaring loud.
8 From earth and hell my sorrows meet To multiply the smart; They nail my hands, they pierce my feet, And try to vex my heart.
9 Yet if thy sovereign hand let loose The rage of earth and hell, Why will my heav’nly Father bruise The Son he loves so well?
10 My God, if possible it be, Withhold this bitter cup But I resign my will to thee, And drink the sorrows up).
11 My heart dissolves with pangs unknown, In groans I waste my breath; Thy heavy hand has brought me down Low as the dust of death.
12 Father, I give my spirit up, And trust it in thy hand; My dying flesh shall rest in hope, And rise at thy command.
Part 2: v.20, 21, 27–31 Christ’s sufferings and kingdom.
1 “Now from the roaring lion’s rage, O Lord, protect thy Son, Nor leave thy darling to engage The powers of hell alone.”
2 Thus did our suff’ring Savior pray, With mighty cries and tears; God heard him in that dreadful day, And chased away his fears.
3 Great was the vict’ry of his death, His throne exalted high; And all the kindreds of the earth Shall worship or shall die.
4 A num’rous offspring must arise From his expiring groans; They shall be reckoned in his eyes For daughters and for sons.
5 The meek and humble souls shall see His table richly spread; And all that seek the Lord shall be With joys immortal fed.
6 The isles shall know the righteousness Of our incarnate God, And nations yet unborn profess Salvation in his blood.