Upon
the shameful tree
Christ
suffered to atone;
He
bore the judgment due to me
And
made my sins His own.
When
all was dark and grim
-
The sun as black as night -
God’s
righteous judgment fell on Him
In
concentrated might.
The
penalty of sin,
The
prison-house of death,
For
me the Saviour came within
When
yielding up His breath.
His
precious blood was shed,
In
grace no words can tell,
By
Jesus, as He hung there dead:
He
has done all things well!
They
laid Him in the grave -
But
in God’s timing He
Rose
omnicompetent to save;
All
this He did for me.
All
this He did for me
And
now upon the throne
He
blesses me, He sets me free
And
makes His place my own.
Praise
for what He has done
In
working out God’s ways;
Grace
crowns what mercy has begun:
Praise
without ceasing, praise.
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