There is a green hill far away,
without a city wall,
where our dear Lord was crucified,
who died to save us all.
We may not know, we cannot tell
what pains he had to bear;
but we believe it was for us
he hung and suffered there.
He died that we might be forgiven,
he died to make us good,
that we might go at last to heaven,
saved by his precious blood.
There was no other good enough,
to pay the price of sin;
he, only, could unlock the gate
of heaven and let us in.
O dearly, dearly as we loved,
and we must love you too;
and trust in his redeeming blood,
and try his works to do you.
Cecil Alexander (1848)
My song is love unknown,
my saviour's love to me;
love to the loveless shown
that they might lovely be:
but who am I, that for my sake
my Lord should take frail flesh and die?
He came from his great throne
salvation to bestow;
but then refrained, and none
the longed-for Christ would know:
but oh my friend, my friend indeed,
who at my need his life did spend.
Sometimes they strew his way
and his sweet praises sing,
resounding all the day
hosannas to their king:
then 'crucify' is all their breath,
and for his death they thirst and cry.
They rise and they must have
my dear Lord done away;
a murderer they save,
the prince of life they slay!
Yet cheerfully, to shame he goes
that he his foes, from this, might free.
Here might I stay and sing
of him my soul adores;
never was love, dear King,
never was grief like mine!
This is my friend in whose sweet praise
I all my days could gladly spend.
Samuel Crossman (1624 - 1684)
When I survey the wondrous Cross
On which the Prince of Glory died,
My richest Gain I count but Loss,
And pour Contempt on all my Pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the cross of Christ my God:
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to his Blood.
See from his Head, his Hands, his Feet,
Sorrow and Love flow mingled down!
Did e’re such Love and Sorrow meet?
Or Thorns compose so rich a Crown?
Were the whole Realm of Nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my Soul, my Life, my All