Good Friday

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My song is love unknown
My Saviour’s love for me
Love to the loveless shown
That they might lovely be
Yet who am I that for my sake
My God should take frail flesh and die?

He came from heaven’s throne
Salvation to bestow
But they refused and none
The longed-for Christ would know
This is my Friend, my Friend indeed
That at my need His life would spend

Sometimes they crowd His way
And His sweet praises sing
Resounding all the day
Hosannas to their king
Then “Crucify!” is all their breath
And for His death they thirst and cry

Why? What has my Lord done
To cause this rage and spite?
He made the lame to run
And gave the blind their sight
Such injuries! Yet these are why
The Lord most high so cruelly dies

Here might I stay and sing
Of Him my soul adores
Never was love, dear King
Never was grief like yours
This is my Friend, in whose sweet praise
I all my days could gladly spend

Samuel Crossman 1664

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