Hymns from the Morningland: Being Translations, Centos and Suggestions from the Service Books of the Holy Eastern Church
Religion
Hymns from the Morningland: Being Translations, Centos and Suggestions from the Service Books of the Holy Eastern Church
Hymns, Greek -- Translations into English; Orthodox Eastern Church -- Hymns
O wounded hands and feet!
O heart, with spear thrust torn!
O brow, with blood drops falling down,
Beneath the stinging thorn!
O Jesus, Lord divine,
Why was such anguish Thine?
II
The angels were amazed,
The sun refused his light,
And they who knew that Christ was God,
Turned from the woeful sight;--
O Jesus, Lord divine,
Why was such anguish Thine?
III
My soul, can'st thou not tell?
Why such a sacrifice?
Hast thou no needs, for which alone
The cross can find supplies?
O Jesus, Lord divine,
Why was such anguish Thine?
IV
For thee the cross was reared;
For thee the Christ was slain;
For thee He sojourned with the dead,
And rose to life again;--
O Jesus, Lord divine,
Thus was the anguish Thine.
I
When Jesus to the judgment hall
By cruel men was led,
He wore a purple robe of scorn,
And thorns upon His head;--
They called Him King, and bowed the knee,
And paid Him homage, mockingly.
II
"Away! let Him be crucified!"
The impious shouts proclaim;
And forth they led the Son of God
To die a death of shame;
And passing thence amid' the crowd,
Beneath a ponderous cross He bowed.
III
Behold Him nailed upon the cross
And left alone to die,
While from the awful scene of death
His timid followers fly;--
In agony He groaned and sighed,
And faint, He bowed the head, and died.
IV
Ah, cruel death for Him to die,
Ah, vilest death of shame,--
Who, to redeem our guilty souls,
From God, in pity came;--
The glory of the Father's throne
He left, to make our souls His own.
V
O Jesus, to Thy cross I cling,
For Thou, my Lord, art there,
Who, in Thy love, True Man became,
My load of sin to bear;
And lo, I lift my eyes to heaven,
For God in mercy hath forgiven.
I
They brought Him to the hill of death
Where ruthless felons died,
And there, upon a cross of shame,
The Christ was crucified;
By wicked men the nails were driven,
And God, in silence, looked from heaven.
II
They bade Him find His help in God,
If He were Christ indeed,
And save Himself, as He had saved
So many in their need;
Such taunting words like venom stung,
And God beheld the arrows flung.
III
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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