Oh, the wondrous cross of Jesus!
There Jehovah's will was done,
There instead of thee He bruised
In thy stead His blessed Son.
God accounting, if believing,
All He did as done for thee;
Giving thus thy soul to triumph,
"Jesus died, and I am free!”
Seeing this, the "tomb of Jesus”
Will assume a different hue;
Thou as having died with Jesus,
God accounts thee buried, too.
And as Jesus rose triumphant
From death's gloomy, dark abode,
Thou in blessed resurrection
Shall arise alone in God.
All thy sins left far behind thee,
Buried in the Savior's grave,
Never more to be remembered,
Covered neath oblivion's wave.
Oh, the depth of God's forgiveness!
Hearken, lost one, to its call,
From the grave of Jesus crying,
"Mercy, mercy's free for all!”