NOW let our mournful songs record
Verse 1
NOW let our mournful songs record The dying sorrows of our Lord, When He complain'd in tears and blood, As one forsaken of His God.
Verse 2
They wound His head, His hands, His feet, Till streams of blood each other meet; By lot His garments they divide, And mock the pangs in which He died.
Verse 3
But God, His Father, heard His cry; Raised from the dead, He reigns on high; The nations learn His righteousness, And humble sinners taste His grace.
