by Dock Boggs
There's a hill lone and grey
In a land far away,
In a country beyond the blue sea;
Where beneath that fair sky,
Went a man forth to die,
For the world and for you and for me.
/ Am - / / G Am / :
Oh, it bowed down my heart
And the teardrops will start,
When in memory all the grey hill I see;
For 'twas there on its side
Jesus suffered and died,
To redeem a poor sinner like me.
/ F - / Am - / ?
Behold, faint on the road,
'Neath the world's heavy load,
Comes a thorn-crowned man on the way;
With a cross, he is bowed,
But still on through the crowd,
He's ascending that hill lone and grey.
Hark, I hear the dull blow
Of the hammer swung low;
They are nailing my Lord to the tree
And the cross they up-raise
While the multitude gaze
On the blessed Lamb of dark Calvary.
How they mocked him in death
To his last laboring breath,
While His friends sadly wept o'er the way.
But though lonely and faint,
Still no word of complaint
Fell from Him on that hillock of grey.
Then a darkness come down
And the rocks went around,
And a cry pierced the sad-laden air;
'Twas the voice of our King,
Who received death's dark sting,
All to save us from endless despair.
Let the sun hide its face,
Let the earth reel space,
Over man who their Savior have slain;
But, behold, from the sod
Comes the blessed Lamb of God,
Who was slain, but is risen again.