O Hour of Doom

O hour of doom

of heart­felt gloom

Why should there not be sigh­ing?

Soon shall God the Fa­ther’s Son

In the tomb be ly­ing.

Men’s sin­ful deed has made to bleed

This in­no­cent

the low­ly

Lest the wrath of right­eous­ness

Fall on heads un­ho­ly.

The Bride­groom see on Cal­va­ry

O bride of Christ is bleed­ing;

On the altar-cross for thee

Hear Him in­ter­ced­ing!

The lips

whence sped life to the dead

Silence now are keep­ing;

Let the crowd ab­out the cross

Watch with wail and weep­ing.

O hap­py he who con­stant­ly

Thinks

with tears un­num­bered

How the ve­ry Lord of lords

’Neath the death-pall slum­bered.

O Je­su blest

my hope

my rest!

Grant

with tears

I pray Thee

I may live and I may die

Yearning to ob­ey Thee!