A cross of wood stands on a hill where it is clearly seen,
And there upon that cross there is a dying Nazarene.
“He claims to be the Son of God, he claims to be a king,
They say that he can raise a man from death’s unholy sting.
They say he fed the masses from a single loaf of bread,
Let’s see if he can feed them in the morning when he’s dead.”
He watched the soldiers gambling for His robe and for His shoes,
And said: “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.”
A thief was at the left of Him, a killer on His right.
The hours dragged on painfully as day turned into night.
With the coming of the night He finally dropped His head,
And as the storm clouds gathered, the Nazarene was dead.
His family took His body from the cross where He had died,
And wrapped Him in a blanket while His mother wept and cried.
They took Him to a cave where they laid His body down,
They washed His beaten body and removed His thorny crown.
And with a final kiss goodbye they left Him in His crypt,
And at the entrance to the cave they rolled a stone in front of it.
In the morning there were mourners who came from far and wide.
And they were shocked to find that the stone was pushed aside.
“Go tell your sons and daughters just what we saw today.
We came to see the One who was the truth the light the way.
No tomb can hold the Son of God.” (The wisest of them said.)
“ Raise your voice in jubilation, today He’s risen from the dead.”
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