The hill of grace ‘tis called,
This hill of cold death and shame,
And until the Lord appeared,
That death shone upon my name.
Though my heart be sometimes troubled,
I am told not to be afraid,
For when trial and temptation overwhelm,
I am sheltered in His shade.
To You be all the glory,
For Life has now been raised,
May my hands that helped to crucify,
Now lift in eternal praise.
© 2013 Liana Wendy Howarth
(in my e-book “Fragrance from the Spring”)