“Though he was crucified through weakness, yet he liveth by the power of God."
O GRACE divine! the Savior shed
His life-blood on the cursed tree;
Bow'd on the cross his blessed head,
And died to make his brethren free.
Through suffering there beneath his feet
He trod the fierce avenger down:
There power itself and weakness meet,
Emblem of each, you thorny crown.
Fruit of the curse, the tangled thorn,
Show'd that He bore its deadly sting;
The crown, 'mid Israel's cruel scorn,
Mark'd him as earth's anointed King.
O blessed hour! when all the earth,
Its rightful heir shall yet receive;
When every tongue shall own his worth,
And all creation cease to grieve.
Thou, dearest Savior! thou alone
Canst give thy weary people rest;
And, Lord, till thou art on the throne,
This groaning earth can ne'er be blest.