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169

GOOD FRIDAY HYMN.
FOR A LITTLE CHILD.

UPON this sad and solemn day
The Son of God was slain,
And nailed upon the dreadful cross,
To die in shame and pain.

They bound with thorns His bleeding brow,
They pierced with spears His side;
They scourged and spit on Him, and dared
To mock Him as He died.

But lo! the sky grew dark as night!
Earth shook with sudden fear,
And they who watched Him trembling cried,
The Son of God is here!

His loved disciples on that eve
Came weeping and forlorn,
And laid Him in the silent tomb,
To rest till Easter morn.

For us He died, for us He bore
Such sorrow and such pain:
Lord, may Thy death be life to us,
Thy grief our endless gain!

E.

April 14, 1843.