"The Tree"
I think that I will never see
A tree as lovely as Calvary.
Where mercy’s love was crushed and pressed
By sin’s defeat, now we are blessed.
A Man looks to heaven, that awful day,
“Forgive them”, were the words He prays;
A Crown of Thorns, this Man now wears,
With Blood mingled down upon His hair,
Upon whose Bosom, John once lay,
Now a whip has lashed flesh away,
Sin was made by fools like me,
But only God made Calvary.
