Good-Friday ('Thy rebuke my heart hath broken !')

'Thy rebuke my heart hath broken!'
my Saviour! can it be
These prophetic words were spoken
Of Thy dying agony,
That so true and tender token
Of Thy living love to me.

my soul! what dull affection
For thy Saviour thine must be.
If thou share not the dejection
Of His dying agony.
Who vouchsafes the great protection
Of His living love to thee.

Thou greatly broken-hearted!
Stoop from Heav'n, and hear my plea.
By those tears of blood that started
From Thy brow in agony,
Let me never more be parted
From Thy living love to me.

By Thine agony of crying
When God had forsaken Thee,
By Thy wounds, and thirst, and dying
On that cruel, curs'd tree,
Hear me when my soul is sighing
For Thy living love to me.

Hear me, and vouchsafe the token
Which I long for most from Thee,
That the words Thyself hath spoken
May my own heart's utterance be,
"Thy rebuke my heart hath broken,"
Heal! O, heal it, Christ! for me.