Throned Upon the Awful Tree

1Throned upon the awful tree,
Lamb of God, Your grief we see.
Darkness veils Your anguished face;
None its lines of woe can trace.

2Silent through those three dread hours,
Wrestling with the evil powers,
Left alone with human sin,
Gloom around You and within.

3Hark, that cry that peals aloud
Upward through the whelming cloud!
You, the Father's only Son,
You, His own anointed one,

4Lord, should fear and anguish roll
Darkly o'er our sinful soul,
You, who once were thus bereft
That your own might ne'er be left.