1 Jesus drinks the bitter cup,
The wine press treads alone,
Tears the graves and mountains up,
By his expiring groan:
Lo! the pow'rs of heaven he shakes,
Nature in convulsion lies,
Earth's profoundest centre quakes,
The great Jehovah dies.
2 Dies the glorious cause of all,
The true eternal plan,
Falls to raise us from our fall,
To ransom sinful man;
Well may Sol withdraw his light,
With the suff'er sympathize,
Leave the world in sudden night,
While his Creator dies.
3 O my God, he dies for me,
I feel the mortal smart!
See him hanging on a tree,
A sight that breaks my heart!
O that all to thee might turn;
Sinners ye may love him too;
Look on him ye pierc'd, and mourn
For one who bled for you.
4 Weep o'er your desire and hope
With tears of humblest love;
Sing for Jesus is gone up,
And reigns enthron'd above;
Lives our head to die no more,
Pow'r is all to Jesus giv'n,
Worship'd as he was before,
The immortal King of heav'n.
First Line: | Jesus drinks the bitter cup |
Title: | The Mystery of Love |
Author: | Charles Wesley |
Meter: | 7.6.7.6.7.7.7.6 |
Language: | English |
Copyright: | Public Domain |