1 On Calv'ry we've adoring stood,
And gazed on that wondrous cross,
Where the holy, spotless Lamb of God
Was slain in His love for us;
How our hearts have stirred at that solemn cry,
While the sun was enwrapt in night,
"Eli, Eli lama sabachthani!"
Most blessed, most awful sight.
2 Our sins were laid on His sacred head,
The curse by our Lord was borne;
For us a victim our Saviour bled,
And endured that death of scorn;
Himself He gave our poor heart's to win--
(Was ever love, Lord, like Thine!)
From the paths of folly and shame and sin,
And fill them with joys divine.
3 We've watched by the tomb where our Saviour lay
When He entered the gloomy grave;
And by death the power of death might slay
And His lambs from the lion save.
Oh, glorious time when the Victor rose!
He liveth, no more to die;
He hath bruised the head of our mighty foes,
For us was His victory!
4 The gates of heaven are opened wide,
At His name all the angels bow;
The Son of Man who was crucified
Is the King of glory now.
We love to look up and behold Him there,
The Lamb for His chosen slain;
And soon shall His saints all His glories share,
With their Head and their Lord shall reign.
5 And now we draw near to the throne of grace,
For His blood and the Priest are there;
And we joyfully seek God's holy face,
With our censer of praise and prayer.
The burning mount and the mystic vail,
With our terrors and guilt, are gone;
Our conscience has peace that can never fail,
'Tis the Lamb on high on the throne.
Source: A Few Hymns and Some Spiritual Songs. Selected 1856, for the Little Flock. Revised, 1881 #213