Jesus drinks the bitter cup, The wine press treads alone: Tears the graves and mountains up, By His expiring groan: Lo! the pow'rs of heav'n He shakes, Nature in convulsion lies; Earth's profoundest center quakes, The great Redeemer dies. O my God, He dies for me, I feel the mortal smart! See Him hanging on the tree, A sight that breaks my heart! O that all to Thee might turn! Sinners, ye may love Him too; Look on Him ye pierced, and mourn For one who bled for you.