Come, Darkness
Traditional
Come darkness spread o'er heaven thy pall
And hide o Sun thy face
While we Christ's bitter death recall
With all its dire disgrace
He hung before thee crucified
His flesh with scourges rent
His bloody gashes gaping wide
His strength and spirit spent
Yet still didst stand in majesty
And didst the sight sustain
Oh more than martyr not to die
Amid such cruel pain
