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GOOD FRIDAY.

No. II,

ANON.

CLEFT are the rocks, the earth doth quake,
The slumberers of the grave awake ;
The temple's veil is rent in twain ;
For Christ our sacrifice is slain,
And bears of sin and death the pain.

Lo, Nature's face of beaming light
She veils in darkness at the sight
Of Him, her God, the Crucified !
'Tis man alone that dares deride
The Saviour who for him hath died.

Despised is the Man of Grief,
Rejected, and denied belief,
By them whose sorrows He hath borne,
For whose transgressions He is torn,
Whose mortal weakness He hath worn.

The Mighty One, the Son of God,
Hath humbly kiss'd affliction's rod,
That by His stripes we might be heal'd,
Our pardon by His blood be seald,
And boundless mercy stand reveal’d.

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, And turn’d aside from wisdom's way, But He hath saved us from our sin; Our God the ransom-Lamb hath been, Our God hath saved us from our sin !

Oh let us cast each vice

away, Which thus the Son of God could slay! With contrite heart and weeping eye Behold the Saviour's cross on high, And every sin and folly fly!

So may we join the song of love
Which saints and angels sing above;
All honour, glory, praise to Thee,
Which wert and art and art to be,
The Lamb slain from eternity !

GOOD FRIDAY

No. III.

R. H.

Oh more than merciful ! whose bounty gave
Thy guiltless self to glut the greedy grave!
Whose heart was rent to pay Thy people's price;
The great High-priest at once and sacrifice !
Help, Saviour, by Thy cross and crimson stain,
Nor let Thy glorious blood be spilt in vain !

When sin with flowery garland hides her dart,
When tyrant force would daunt the sinking heart,
When fleshly lust assails, or worldly care,
Or the soul flutters in the Fowler's snare,-
Help, Saviour, by Thy cross and crimson stain,
Nor let Thy glorious blood be spilt in vain !

And, chiefest then, when Nature yields the strife,
And mortal darkness wraps the gate of life;
When the poor spirit, from the tomb set free,
Sinks at Thy feet, and lifts its hope to Thee,-
Help, Saviour, by Thy cross and crimson stain,
Nor let Thy glorious blood be spilt in vain !

EASTER DAY.

No. I.

Jesus Christ is risen to-day,—Hallelujah !
Our triumphant holiday !-Hallelujah!
Who so lately on the cross-Hallelujah!
Suffer'd to redeem our loss.-Hallelujah!

Hymns of praises let us sing—Hallelujah !
Unto Christ our Heavenly King-Hallelujah !
Who endured the cross and grave-Hallelujah!
Sinners to redeem and save--Hallelujah!

For the pains which He endured --Hallelujah!
Our salvation have secured-Hallelujah!
Now He reigns above the sky-Hallelujah!
Where the Angels ever cry-Hallelujah!

D

EASTER DAY.

No. II.

R. H.

God is gone up

with a merry

noise Of saints that sing on high, With His own right hand and His holy arm

He hath won the victory!

Now empty are the courts of Death,

And crush'd thy sting, Despair : And roses bloom in the desert tomb,

For Jesus hath been there!

And He hath tamed the strength of Hell,

And dragg'd him through the sky, And captive behind His chariot wheel,

He hath bound captivity!

God is gone up

with a merry

noise Of saints that sing on high ; With His own right hand and His holy arm

He hath won the victory!

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