Hymn for Good Friday.
Past the death I should have died,
Past the anguish and the pain;
And I, unsuffering, stood aside,
And saw my Saviour slain.
Past the weary, thirsty strife,
Tearing torture on the Cross,
All that fight of death and life;
And not one drop of blood my loss.
Past the weight of fearful thought
None but the Sin-Bearer knew;
Past the cry that comfort sought,
Met by an insult new.
So Jesus died: and earth and skies
Witnessed their fear and woe;
The dead, rejoicing, did arise
And with their Saviour go.
Shall we not mourn nor we rejoice,
For whom this Jesus died?
Look coldly in that fainting face?
Turn from that bleeding side?
We will not: we will clasp the Cross,
And boldly own his name;
That we held back our soul’s remorse,
And cared not once our shame.
Menie Parkes, Poems, F. Cunninghame, Sydney, , page 32