Bitter, indeed, the waters are
Which in this desert flow
Though to the eye they promise fair
They taste of sin and woe
Of pleasing draughts I once could dream
But now, awake, I find
That sin has poisoned every stream
And left a curse behind
But there’s a wonder-working wood
I’ve heard believers say
Can make these bitter waters good
And take the curse away
The virtues of this healing tree
Are known and prized by few
Reveal this secret, Lord, to me
That I may prize it too
The cross on which the Savior died
And conquered for His saints
This is the tree, by faith applied
Which sweetens all complaints
Thousands have found the blest effect
Nor longer mourn their lot
While on His sorrows they reflect
Their own are all forgot
When they, by faith, behold the cross
Tho’ many griefs they meet
They draw again from every loss
And find the bitter sweet
Behold the cross
Find the bitter sweet