Thus will we grieve and love.
“Hark, how He groans! while nature shakes,
And earth’s strong pillars bend;
The temple’s veil in sunder breaks;
The solid marbles rend.
“’Tis done! the precious ransom’s paid;
“Receive My soul,” He cries:
See where He bows His sacred head!
He bows His head and dies!
“But soon he’ll break death’s envious chain,