GOOD FRIDAY
BOUND upon th' accursed
Faint and bleeding, who is He?
By the eyes so pale and dim,
Streaming blood and writhing limb,
By the flesh with scourges torn,
By the crown of twisted thorn,
By the side so deeply pierced,
By the baffled burning thirst,
By the drooping death-dewed brow
Son of Man! 't is Thou, 't is Thou!
Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Dread and awful, who is He?
By the sun at noonday pale,
Shivering rocks, and rending veil,
By earth that trembles at His doom,
By yonder saints who burst their tomb,
By Eden promised, ere He died,
To the felon at His side;
Lord, our suppliant knees we bow,
Son of God! 'tis Thou! 't is Thou!
Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Sad, and dying, who is He?
By the last and bitter cry,
The ghost given up in agony,
By the lifeless body laid
In the chamber of the dead,
By the mourners come to weep
Where the bones of Jesus sleep;
Crucified! we know Thee now;
Son of Man! 't is Thou! 't is Thou!
Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Dread and awful, who is He?
By the prayer for them that slew,
"Lord! they know not what they do!"
By the spoiled and empty grave,
By the souls He died to save,
By the conquest He hath won,
By the saints before His throne,
By the rainbow round His brow,
Son of God! 'tis Thou! 't is Thou!
Henry Hart Milman
COME and mourn with me a while;
O come ye to the Saviour's side;
O come, together let us mourn :
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
Have we no tears to shed for Him
While soldiers scoff, and Jews deride?
Ah, look how patiently He hangs;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
How fast His hands and feet are nailed;
His throat with parching thirst is dried;
His failing eyes are dimmed with blood;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
Seven times He spake, seven words of love;
And all three hours His silence cried
For mercy on the souls of men ;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
Come, let us stand beneath the cross;
So may the blood from out His side
Fall gently on us, drop by drop;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
A broken heart, a fount of tears,
Ask, and they will not be denied ;
Lord Jesus, may we love, and weep,
Since Thou for us art crucified.
Frederic W. Faber
HEN our heads are bowed with woe, When our bitter tears o'erflow, When we mourn the lost, the dear, Gracious Son of Mary, hear!
Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn,
Thou our mortal griefs hast borne,
Thou hast shed the human tear,
Gracious Son of Mary, hear!
When the sullen death-bell tolls
For our own departing souls ;
When our final doom is near,
Gracious Son of Mary, hear!
Thou hast bowed the dying head;
Thou the blood of life hast shed;
Thou hast filled a mortal bier :
Gracious Son of Mary, hear!
When the heart is sad within
With the thought of all its sin,
When the spirit shrinks with fear,
Gracious Son of Mary, hear!
Thou the shame, the grief hast known,
Though the sins were not Thine own;
Thou hast deigned their load to bear,
Gracious Son of Mary, hear!
Henry Hart Milman
AVIOUR, when in dust to Thee Low we bow th' adoring knee; When repentant to the skies Scarce we lift our weeping eyes; O, by all Thy pain and woe Suffered once for man below, Bending from Thy throne on high, Hear our solemn Litany!
By Thy helpless infant years,
By Thy life of want and tears,
By Thy days of sore distress
In the savage wilderness,
By the dread mysterious hour
Of the insulting tempter's power,
Turn, O turn a favoring eye;
Hear our solemn Litany!
By the sacred griefs that wept
O'er the grave where Lazarus slept ;
By the boding tears that flowed
Over Salem's loved abode ;
By the anguished sigh that told
Treachery lurked within Thy fold;
From Thy seat above the sky,
Hear our solemn Litany!
By Thine hour of dire despair,
By Thine agony of prayer,
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