A Hymn for Good Friday

1 Mourn, mourn ye saints, as if you see
Our Saviour dear nailed to the tree;
A bitter death he did endure,
To save the souls of men secure.

2 Oh! how his purple streams did flow,
His blood on man he did bestow;
With hands and feet nailed to the wood,
And pierced side ran down with blood.

3 What wisdom can conceive or know,
What tongue or pen can truly show
The vast dimensions of his love,
Or shew his power in heaven above.

4 To God be praise and worship done,
For giving us his only Son:
Let's tune our souls, and him adore,
In Hallelujahs evermore.

Hymns and Spiritual Songs for the use of Christians, 1803