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| 1 How sweet in every trying scene, That wounds the spirit here, To feel that Jesus bore our grief, And know He still is near; O ye who o’er the couch of death Your lonely watch have kept, Tho’ anguish rend your aching breast, Remember Jesus wept. 2 He groaned in spirit while He spoke: Where have you laid the dead? Lord, come and see, they murmured low, He followed where they led; Beneath a cold sepulchral stone An only brother slept, And angels wondered as they gazed, For lo! the Savior wept. 3 How oft the prayer our lips would breathe The heart alone may speak; How oft the penitential tear Bedews the mourner’s cheek: Poor child of toil, though dark and sad, Thy weary lot may be, With few to smooth life’s rugged path, Thy Savior wept for thee. | The Cyber Hymnal #9282 |
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