On that cold and bit­ter plain,
Our dear Sav­ior there was slain;
Made to bear a cross of sin,
For a world of thank­less men.

Refrain

O dear friends, it was for you,
All this suff­ering He passed thru;
Has af­fec­tion from you flown?
Must He bear the cross alone?

Oh, they nailed Him to the tree,
Cursed Him in His ago­ny;
And the mo­ment that He died,
They did pierce His bless­èd side.

Refrain

Then the sun no long­er shone,
And the hoa­ry hills did moan;
While the day that was so bright,
Slowly turned to dark­est night.

Refrain

Friends then laid Him in the tomb,
Midst the ev­en­ing’s ga­ther­ing gloom;
In the night’s lone si­lence gray,
Angels rolled the stone away.

Refrain