Agony of agony !
Listen to that awful cry
Piercing through mysterious night
When cloudless sun gives out no light!
Hark! It beats 'gainst black-brass sky-"
Eli lama sabachthani! "

Agony of agony !
What the pain of Calvary ?
Not the mocking taunt nor blow,
Not the thorn that tears the brow,
Not the great indignity
Of sinners striking Deity.
Not the rods that furrows plowed,
Not the ribald soldier crowd,
Blinding first, then even hitting-
The vilest on His features spitting-
(Jew as well as Gentile spitting)
On that Face so greatly scarred,
Soon by deeper sorrow marred.
"T 'was not these that forced the cry,
" Eli lama sabachthani ! "

Agony of agony !
What the pain of Calvary ?
Never moan nor grief-fraught wail
Followed the nerve-tearing nail-
True He speaks-He is but pleading-
For His slayers interceding.
Meekest Lamb to slaughter come !
Sheep before her shearers dumb !

'Tis not shame His Spirit grieves
As He hangs betwixt the thieves;
Not the gibe of passer-by,
Nor more cruel priests that cry,
" Saviour He of others !Save
Himself He cannot from the grave."

Even not the cruel smart
Added to that gentle Heart,
When He with true human pain
Looked for pity-looked in vain.
It needed deeper agony
E'en than these to wake the cry,
" Eli lama sabachthani."

Agony of agony!
This the pain of Calvary-
Bow, my soul, in solemn awe,
From thy foot the sandal draw.
This is truly holy ground,
Here is mystery profound.
Few thy words-but let thy thought
Be with deep emotion fraught:
Tremble whilst Truth speaks to Guilt,
Telling why that blood was spilt;
Weep e'er whilst sweet Mercy's voice
Bids thy broken heart rejoice;
Praise whilst Love and Truth unite
To flood thy heart with heavenly light,-
Trembling, weeping, praising, learn-
(Let it in thy spirit burn)
Thy sins, thyself, hast caused that cry-
"Eli lama sabachthani! "

[Pause-nor shame if 'scape a sigh,
Or a tear thine eye bedews
Melting soul, and brimming eye,
Fit the scene on which ye muse.
Sighing here speaks not of grief ;
Gentle tears are love's relief.

Yea, for since I've learnt my part-
In that solemn scene I ponder
Memories of a broken heart
Tenderly must linger yonder,
Whilst, to make such visions clear,
No lens like a contrite tear.]

But e'en whilst the city's walls
Those sad echoes back are flinging,
Golden sunlight once more falls ;
And the birds resume their singing.
That dread storm is past forever,-
Past! to be repeated-never !

List !His voice again is heard
In the calm of Conqueror, sending
Forth His spirit with a word,
To His Father all commending;-
Speaks, but with no breath of sighing-
Dies, but with no sign of dying !

Thus He's numbered with the dead,
For by man no bone is broken.
God alone may bruise this "Bread"-
Man may loose love's mightiest token-
One last blow-the soldier's spear
Fills our cup with " Wine to cheer."

Nevermore shall unbelief
Put its cruel mark upon Him;
Nevermore shall pain or grief
Leave their scarring traces on Him.
Henceforth love alone shall pour
On His feet her richest store.

Sing, ye angels ! ye whose eyes
Long to scan redemption's story :
See your own Creator rise,
But now robed in other glory-
Hail your Lord your God again
"As a Lamb that hath been slain ! "

Sing ye saints, who know the bliss
Of the word, " thou art forgiven"-
Know the rapture of God's kiss;
Be ye not out praised by heaven !
Which, think ye, should love Him most,
Sinners saved, or angel host ?

"Sing, my soul! " each saved one cries,
As we sit around His table,
" Mine the song whose note should rise
High o'er all. If I were able,
Saint and angel I'd outvie,
None can owe so much as I.

'' Though my fullest song is faint-
Though my fire's but smoldering ember-
Though my praise oft turns to 'plaint-
Lord, I can at least 'remember.'
This I do as now we sup,
Break the bread and drink the cup."
"NON SUM"