Lord, e’en to death Thy love could go,
A death of shame and loss,
To vanquish for us every foe,
And break the strong man’s force.

Oh! what a load was Thine to bear
Alone in that dark hour,
Our sins in all their terror there,
God’s wrath and Satan’s power.

The storm that bowed Thy blessed head
Is hushed for ever now,
And rest divine is ours instead,
Whilst glory crowns Thy brow.

Within the Father’s house on high
We soon shall sing Thy praise,
But here where Thou didst bleed and die,
We learn that song to raise.