Use the “Play” ► button above to listen to the poem:
When last did you visit the Hill? When last did you cry within As you watched the living Son of God Bearing the load of your sin?
When last did that garden you see, Where Jesus, in anguish of soul, Saw sweat drops of blood fall from His brow As the weight of our sin took its toll?
When last did you watch as the King, A mock, thorny crown on His head, Heard the multitudes cry; “Crucify Him! We’ll take Barabbas instead?”
When last did you walk by the way As He trudged ‘neath the load up that hill, Knowing that though that cross crushed Him so, Our sins would be heavier still?
When last did you watch from afar As they nailed our great God to that tree? And watched as He bled; and watched as He died; God died! – for you, and for me.
When last did you fall to your knees As you watched the transaction take place, And acknowledge that never again must your mind That memory, that picture, erase?
Oh, Christian, give thanks, from morning to night. In everything give praises still. For nothing but praise should spring from your lips When once more, you have been – to the Hill.
