7 Behold thy darling left among The cruel and the proud, As bulls of Bashan fierce and strong, As lions roaring loud.
8 From earth and hell my sorrows meet To multiply the smart; They nail my hands, they pierce my feet And try to vex my heart.
9 Yet if thy sovereign hand let loose The rage of earth and hell, Why will my heavenly Father bruise The Son he loves so well?
10 My God, if possible it be, Withhold this bitter cup; But I resign my will to thee, And drink the sorrows up.
11 My heart dissolves with pangs unknown In groans I waste my breath; Thy heavy hand has brought me down Low as the dust of death.
12 Father, I give my spirit up; And trust it in thy hand; My dying flesh shall rest in hope, And rise at thy command.