“Thou gavest Him, well knowing all that lay before Him here –
The suffering sore, the thorny crown, the cross, the cruel spear–
And in that hour of woe supreme, when Jesus bore our sin,
God’s patient, holy, suffering Lamb, Thou didst forsake Him then.”
“Bless, bless the Conqueror slain,
Slain in His victory;
Who lived, Who died, Who lives again–
For thee, His church, for thee!”
“Lifted up was He to die,
“It is finished,” was His cry;
Now in heaven exalted high;
Hallelujah! What a a Savior!”
“The Lord is risen; and death’s dark judgment flood
Is passed, in Him who bought us with His blood.
The Lord is risen: we stand beyond the doom
Of all our sin, through Jesus’ empty tomb.”
Thine be the glory, risen, conquering Son,
Endless is the victory Thou o’er death hast won;
Angels in bright raiment rolled the stone away,
Kept the folded grave-clothes, where Thy body lay.
–Edmond L. Budry, “Risen, Conquering Son”, verse 1
[I removed apostrophes from several lines, making the lyrics easier to read.
I hope no one minds.]