O the dark­ness, O the sor­row,
O the mi­se­ry of sin!
When will dawn the pro­mised mor­row
That shall bring de­liv­er­ance in?

One there was or­dained to lang­uish,
Guiltless, in Geth­se­ma­ne;
One there was who died in ang­uish
Innocent, on Cal­va­ry.

Jesus was the bur­den bear­er,
God’s own Son the sac­ri­fice;
Of the griefs of man the shar­er,
Of his soul the ran­som price.

’Tis the Christ, the ev­er-liv­ing,
Ever-lov­ing, ev­er-blest,
By the Com­fort­er still giv­ing
Pardon, ho­li­ness, and rest.

Can the love so free­ly giv­en,
Can the blood so free­ly shed,
Fail to draw the earth to Hea­ven,
Fail to bring alive its dead?

Rise, O child­ren of the Fa­ther,
Stand, ye bro­thers of the Son,
In un­yield­ing ranks to­ge­ther
Till the crown of Christ be won;

Till the lands of sin and sor­row,
Darker than the an­cient night,
Shall be­hold the pro­mised morrow
Beam on them with sav­ing light.