Things Borrowed


They borrowed a bed to lay His head,
When Christ the Lord came down,
They borrowed a foal in the mountain pass,
For Him to ride to town.
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore,
Were His own.

He borrowed the bread when the crowd was fed,
On the grassy mountain side;
He borrowed the dish of broken fish,
With which He satisfied.
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore,
Were His own.

He borrowed the ship in which to sit,
To teach the multitude;
He borrowed the nest in which to rest,
He had never a home so rude,
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore,
Were His own.

He borrowed a room on the way to the tomb,
The Passover lamb to eat,
They borrowed a cave for Him a grave,
They borrowed a winding sheet.
But the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore,
Were His own.

The thorns on His head were worn in my stead,
For me the Savior died;
For guilt of my sins the nails driven in,
When Him they crucified.
Though the crown that He wore
And the cross that He bore
And the blood that He shed
Were His own.

They rightly were mine instead.

Submitted by Mary Vince







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