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31
PASSIONTIDE AND EASTER
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BEHOLD YOUR KING!
Behold your King!
Oh, sorrow of this thing!
His face from shame and spitting He doth not hide;
Suffers His eyes to be blinded, His hands to be tied;
On His shoulders the slavedom's loathly gallows will let them lay,
Will carry it, fall with it, rise again, fall again, on through the Sorrowful Way.
Oh, sorrow of this thing!
His face from shame and spitting He doth not hide;
Suffers His eyes to be blinded, His hands to be tied;
On His shoulders the slavedom's loathly gallows will let them lay,
Will carry it, fall with it, rise again, fall again, on through the Sorrowful Way.
Behold your King!
Oh, the uncomely thing!
Oh, the most blessed thing,
Thus to behold our King.
To look on One
On Whose back the plowers have plowed those furrows of theirs;
Who standeth in silence wrapt, nor answereth
By the word of immortal life to the question of mortal death.
Oh, the uncomely thing!
Oh, the most blessed thing,
Thus to behold our King.
To look on One
On Whose back the plowers have plowed those furrows of theirs;
Who standeth in silence wrapt, nor answereth
By the word of immortal life to the question of mortal death.
Purple, in sooth, He wears,
And that is a crown He bears;
And what is the purple but cloak that a soldier has worn?
And what is the crown but spikes of the platted thorn?
And what is the sceptre, indeed,
But a reed?
Robed and crowned and sceptred, where His throne?
Even the cross of the wicked to hang upon.
And that is a crown He bears;
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And what is the crown but spikes of the platted thorn?
And what is the sceptre, indeed,
But a reed?
Robed and crowned and sceptred, where His throne?
Even the cross of the wicked to hang upon.
Behold your King!
Oh, wondrous joyful thing!
Here in His immortality,
No more to die.
Our King of might,
Our King of love,
In garments dight
By glory wove.
Our King with hands that show
Marks jewel-bright where the dark nails did go;
Whose glorious feet are doubly glorified
By the red gems that were love's wounds; whose side
Displays the ruby of great price, where flowed
Water and blood.
Oh, wondrous joyful thing!
Here in His immortality,
No more to die.
Our King of might,
Our King of love,
In garments dight
By glory wove.
Our King with hands that show
Marks jewel-bright where the dark nails did go;
Whose glorious feet are doubly glorified
By the red gems that were love's wounds; whose side
Displays the ruby of great price, where flowed
Water and blood.
We who beheld our King
In shame and anguishing
Look on Him now,
As the black thorns that pierced His brow
We know for rays of light,
Quenchless and infinite.
See Him ascend,
Our King, our God, our Friend,
Up to the supreme heights where love has part,
Who knew the very core of suffering's heart.
In shame and anguishing
Look on Him now,
As the black thorns that pierced His brow
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Quenchless and infinite.
See Him ascend,
Our King, our God, our Friend,
Up to the supreme heights where love has part,
Who knew the very core of suffering's heart.
And see Him, as we kneel before Him thus,
Stoop from His glory to abide with us.
Stoop from His glory to abide with us.
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