Throned upon the Awful Tree

Throned up­on the aw­ful tree

Lamb of God

Your grief I see.

Darkness veils Your ang­uished face;

None its lines of woe can trace.

None can tell what pangs un­known

Hold You si­lent and alone.

Silent through those three dread hours

Wrestling with the ev­il pow­ers

Left alone with hu­man sin

Gloom around You and with­in

Till the ap­point­ed time is nigh

Til the Lamb of God may die.

Hark

that cry that peals aloud

Upward through the whelm­ing cloud!

You

the Fa­ther’s on­ly Son

You

His own an­oint­ed One

You are ask­ing can it be

Why have You for­sak­en Me?

Lord

should fear and ang­uish roll

Darkly o’er my sin­ful soul

You

who once were thus be­reft

That Your own might ne’er be left

Teach me by that bit­ter cry

In the gloom to know You nigh.