1 His trial o'er, and now, beneath
His own cross faintly bending,
Jesus the fatal hill of death
Is wearily ascending.
And now, His hands and feet pierced through,
Upon the cross thy raise Him,
Where even now, in distant view,
The eye of faith surveys Him.
2 O wondrous love, which God most high
Toward man was please to cherish!
His sinless Son He gave to die,
That sinners might not perish.
Our sins's pollution to remove,
His blood was asked and given;
So mighty was the Saviors's love,
So vast the wrath of heaven.
3 Yes! 'tis the cross that breaks the rod
And chain of condemnation,
And makes a league 'twist man and God,
For our entire salvation.
O praise the Father, praise the Son,
The Lamb for sinners given,
And Holy Ghost, through whom alone
Our hearts are raised to heaven.
Source: The Lutheran Hymnary #296