On Calv’ry’s tree Messiah hung, a world of grief to bear—
No law transgressed nor wrong He’d done, yet God forsook Him there.
For sin incarnate He became, the vilest evil, He—
What burden laden sore with blame has He borne there for me.
What myst’ry on the cross laid bare, despite my filth and shame,
Could cause the Lamb to call me there, and there my soul reclaim.
What wondrous Love of noblest worth could harbor such a plan,
That God, creator of all earth should die for sinful man.
But Death cannot God’s will enslave nor keep Him from His own—
The Son is risen from the grave and sits upon His throne.
With grateful hearts our voices raise Thy Name, O Lord, to sing,
And give Thee honor, laud, and praise as most befits a King.