dove
THRONED UPON THE AWFUL TREE

Throned upon the awful tree,
King of grief, I watch with Thee.
Darkness veils Thine anguished face:
None its lines of woes can trace:
None can tell what pangs unknown,
Hold Thee silent and alone.

Silent through the three dread hours,
Wrestling with the evil pow'rs,
Left alone with human sin,
Gloom around Thee and within,
Till the appointed time is nigh,
Till the Lamb of God may die.

Hark, that cry that peals aloud,
Upward through the whelming cloud!
Thou, the Father's only Son,
Thou, His own Annointed One,
Thou dost ask Him can it be?
"Why hast Thou forsaken me?"

Lord, should fear and anguish roll,
Darkly o'er my sinful soul,
Thou, who once wast thus bereft,
That Thine own might ne'er be left,
Teach me by that bitter cry,
In the gloom to know Thee nigh.


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