‘Twas Not the Lash

‘Twas not the lash upon His back
that bade my Savior’s anguished cry
Nor ’twas the nails that rent his flesh
that made his Spirit yielded fly

But ’twas my sin upon Him laid
that called the skies to roil black
and ’twas His Father’s presence stayed
that gave my Savior unto death

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