What sorrow made this Man of grace?
Fall in Gethsemane upon His face
In earnest prayer His head did bow
And sweat like blood drops ran from His brow
He knew He must drink the bitter cup
Tomorrow He would be lifted up
Life giving blood would be His loss
The Lamb of God would hang from the cross
How black the darkness of that night
When they came with sword and might
And led the Son of God away
Cruel cross awaited on breaking day
When dawned that dreadful morn'
They pierced His head with crown of thorn
And lashing whip tore His back
Before the way of the cross He would take
His battered face they spat upon
But love for sinners drove Him on
Bruised; fatigued His strength would fail
When His cross He tried to trail
The Roman soldiers cruel and crude
Made Simon bear the cross of wood
As they marched Jesus up Golgotha hill
His precious blood they soon would spill
His hands and feet they did impale
When they fixed to the cross with hammered nail
His battered body of garments stripped bare
But love not nails kept Him there
He showed His pity for His mother's grief
And pardoned there a dying thief
All sinners will suffer eternal loss
If they come not to the Man on the middle cross
Thank God His end was not the cross or grave
But He is the living Saviour willing to save
Calling; sinner from bondage I will set you free
If you will take up your cross and follow me