I know that I shall never see
A tree like that of Calvary;
A tree on which men, poor and blind,
Defiled the Savior of mankind.
That sin was done by fools like me,
But God himself was on that tree.
I love to think as he hung there,
No eye to pity, none to care,
Victim of hate, betrayed and cursed,
Cut off from God, dying in thirst.
I love to think He thought of me,
When hanging there upon the tree.
I joy to know he’ll come again,
Who on a tree by man was slain;
I’ll count myself among the wise,
Who wait his coming from the skies.
Not from a tree, but from a throne,
He soon shall rule this world alone.
– Leonard Ravenhill