(By Judy Aspenson)
There was no one to comfort Him,
So dark was Calvary’s hill,
As men would do their worst to Him,
While heaven and earth stood still.
There was no hand to reach and touch,
To ease those wounds of pain.
Yet His own hands had healed the sick
And raised to life again.
There were no words of comfort given,
No pity shown Him then,
Yet, through His life, and on that cross,
Forgave He sinful men.
There was no one, but in His love,
‘Twas for that cross He came;
We own Him LORD, and praise our God;
The best of heaven He gave.
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