Heads up: piano recordings may drift slightly out of sync with the highlighting.
1
O Christ, what burdens bow’d Thy head! Our load was laid on Thee; Thou stoodest in the sinner’s stead, Didst bear all ill for me. A victim led; Thy blood was shed; Now there’s no load for me.
DO
Christ, what burdens
A
bow'd
Thy
Bm
head!
Our
G
load
was
A7
laid
on
D-G
Thee;
Thou
D
stoodest
A
in
the
Bm
sinner's
D
stead,
Didst
A
bear
all
E7
ill
for
A-A7
me.
A
D
victim
A
led;
Thy
D
blood
was
G
shed;
Now
D
there's
no
A7
load
for
D
me.
2
Death and the curse were in our cup, O Christ, ’twas full for Thee! But Thou hast drained the last dark drop— ’Tis empty now for me. That bitter cup—love drank it up; Now blessings’ draught for me.
Death and the curse were in our cup,
O Christ, 'twas full for Thee!
But Thou hast drained the last dark drop—
’Tis empty now for me.
That bitter cup—love drank it up;
Now blessings' draught for me.
DDeath
and the curse were
A
in
our
Bm
cup,
O
G
Christ,
'twas
A7
full
for
D-G
Thee!
But
D
Thou
hast
A
drained
the
Bm
last
dark
D
drop—
’Tis
A
empty
E7
now
for
A-A7
me.
That
D
bitter
A
cup—love
D
drank
it
G
up;
Now
D
blessings'
A7
draught
for
D
me.
3
Jehovah lifted up His rod, O Christ, it fell on Thee! Thou wast sore stricken of Thy God; There’s not one stroke for me. Thy tears, Thy blood, beneath it flowed; Thy bruising healeth me.
Jehovah lifted up His rod,
O Christ, it fell on Thee!
Thou wast sore stricken of Thy God;
There's not one stroke for me.
Thy tears, Thy blood, beneath it flowed;
Thy bruising healeth me.
DJehovah
lifted
A
up
His
Bm
rod,
O
G
Christ,
it
A7
fell
on
D-G
Thee!
Thou
D
wast
sore
A
stricken
Bm
of
Thy
D
God;
There's
A
not
one
E7
stroke
for
A-A7
me.
Thy
D
tears,
Thy
A
blood,
D
beneath
it
G
flowed;
Thy
D
bruising
A7
healeth
D
me.
4
The tempest’s awful voice was heard, O Christ, it broke on Thee! Thy open bosom was my ward, It braved the storm for me. Thy form was scarred, Thy visage marred; Now cloudless peace for me.
The tempest's awful voice was heard,
O Christ, it broke on Thee!
Thy open bosom was my ward,
It braved the storm for me.
Thy form was scarred, Thy visage marred;
Now cloudless peace for me.
DThe
tempest's awful
A
voice
was
Bm
heard,
O
G
Christ,
it
A7
broke
on
D-G
Thee!
Thy
D
open
A
bosom
Bm
was
my
D
ward,
It
A
braved
the
E7
storm
for
A-A7
me.
Thy
D
form
was
A
scarred,
Thy
D
visage
G
marred;
Now
D
cloudless
A7
peace
for
D
me.
5
Jehovah bade His sword awake, O Christ, it woke ’gainst Thee! Thy blood the flaming blade must slake; Thy heart its sheath must be— All for my sake, my peace to make; Now sleeps that sword for me.
Jehovah bade His sword awake,
O Christ, it woke 'gainst Thee!
Thy blood the flaming blade must slake;
Thy heart its sheath must be—
All for my sake, my peace to make;
Now sleeps that sword for me.
DJehovah
bade His
A
sword
Bm
awake,
O
G
Christ,
it
A7
woke
'gainst
D-G
Thee!
Thy
D
blood
the
A
flaming
Bm
blade
must
D
slake;
Thy
A
heart
its
E7
sheath
must
A-A7
be—
All
D
for
my
A
sake,
my
D
peace
to
G
make;
Now
D
sleeps
that
A7
sword
for
D
me.
6
For me, Lord Jesus, Thou hast died, And I have died in Thee; Thou’rt ris’n: my bands are all untied, And now Thou liv’st in me. When purified, made white, and tried, Thy glory then for me!