Men who knew not their souls’ great loss, Throngs of poor men repining.
He was weak—He stumbled and fell—And a cruel whip lashed his back.
He endured more than tongue can tell; No misery did he lack.
A perfect man; He’d done no wrong. He’d showed God’s love to the meek.
Yet Jesus was the mocker’s song; High priests against him did speak.
Nails were driven in his hands. Why must He suffer and die?
He yielded not to sins demands. Why must He hang there and cry?
All creation moaned and sighed; In Jerusalem ‘twas all dark.
When our Lord was crucified The earth shook and angels did hark.
“It is finished!” Jesus Christ said. The veil in the temple rent;
Our Savior’s head drooped; he was dead. He was God’s salvation sent.
He took the keys of death and hell--Conquered the devil’s dark hold;
He rose again and all is well; Let the story now be told.
Believe the Gospel and repent. Jesus died for you, my friend.
His grace from heav’n for you was sent; Christ’s great love is without end.
© 2013 Bethany Carson