A mother sees her suffering child
And with desire nearly wild
She craves instead his cup of woe,
To have it so she’s helpless though. 

A Father to His Son once gave  
All suffering to His people save.
How much it must have pained my God;
Wrath to pour for broken law
On the One most Innocent,
That I could hell now circumvent. 

Each sin of mine has been placed 
On that One, the King of Grace. 

Love like that of Calvary 
Personates what love should be. 
Not a cozy sentiment, 
Of agony void or courage spent. 

Love that cannot pain abide
Nor persevere and through storms ride,
Fails the test and sadly proves
A vaporious simple platitude.