8,8,8,8 tr., John Brownlie I When Thou, O Christ, upon the tree, Wert bearing pain for sinful men, The sun, lamenting, hid his face, And clothed himself with darkness then; II And o'er the world, when noontide came, The light grew faint and faded soon; And men in wonder saw the dark Bring in the night at hour of noon. III But, low in Hades' depths there shone Such light as never shone before; And prisoners saw the Light of lights, And joyed to feel their bondage o'er. IV O blessed art Thou, Christ, our Lord, For all the pain so meekly borne; The dark that hid Thee in Thy woe, Has ushered in a glorious morn. |