1 Now let our pains be all forgot, Our hearts no more repine, Our sufferings are not worth a thought, When, Lord, compar'd with thine.
2 In lively figures here we see The bleeding Prince of love; Each of us hope he dy'd for me, And then our griefs remove.
3 [Our humble faith here takes her rise, While sitting round his board; And back to Calvary she flies, To view her groaning Lord.
4 His soul, what agonies it felt When his own God withdrew! And the large load of all our guilt Lay heavy on him too.
5 But the divinity within Supported him to bear: Dying he conquer'd hell and sin, And made his triumph there.]
6 Grace, wisdom, justice join'd and wrought The wonders of that day: No mortal tongue, nor mortal thought Can equal thanks repay.
7 Our hymns should sound like those above, Could we our voices raise; Yet, Lord, our hearts shall all be love, And all our lives be praise.