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3 The rising God forsakes the tomb ;
Born to redeem, and strong to save!"
The expiring Saviour.
1 HARK! the voice of love and mercy
Shakes the earth-and veils the sky:
Hear the dying Saviour cry.
2 "It is finished!"-Oh! what pleasure
Flow to us through Christ, the Lord:
Saints! the dying words record.
Glory to the bleeding Lamb!
Salvation by the Cross.
1 HERE at thy cross, incarnate God!
2 Should worlds conspire to drive me hence, Moveless and firm this heart should lie;
Resolved, for that's my last defence,
If I must perish, here to die.
Am I not safe beneath thy shade ?
Nor Satan dare my soul invade.
And all my foes shall lose their aim;
L. M. 160.
Where Jesus spent the night in prayer;
Nor form, nor comeliness is there.
Arraigned, condemned, at Pilate's bar;
There, mocked by Herod's men of war. 3 He bears their buffeting and scorn,
Mock-homage of the lip, the knee-
The scourge, the nail, th' accursed tree. 4 No guile within his mouth is found,
He neither threatens nor complains;
Dumb, mid his murderers he remains. 5 But hark! he prays;-'t is for his foes;
He speaks ;-'t is comfort to his friends;
He bows his head ;-the conflict ends. 6 Truly this was the Son of God
Though in a servant's mean disguise;
L. M. 161.
A dying Saviour. 1 STRETCHED on the cross, the Saviour dies!
Hark! his expiring groans arise:
See-from his hands, his feet, his side,
Fast flows the sacred crimson tide! 2 But life attends the deathful sound,
And flows from every bleeding wound:
To save and cleanse his rebel-foes ! 3 Can I survey this scene of wo,
Where mingling grief and wonder flow,
Insensible to love or pain?
To warm this cold, this stupid heart;
Of him who died upon the cross;
For this we count the world but loss. 2 Inscribed upon the cross we see,
In shining letters,-“ God is Love :"
He brings us mercy from above.
It holds the fainting spirit up;
And sweetens every bitter cup. 4 It makes the coward-spirit brave,
And nerves the feeble arm for fight;
And gilds the bed of death with light. 5 The balm of life, the cure of wo,
The measure and the pledge of love; "T is all that sinners want below, "T is all that angels know above.
L. M. Double. 163.
Contrition at the Cross. 1 FAST flow, my tears! the cause is great;
This tribute claims an injured friend ;
One whom I long pursped with hate,
While he would love me to the end :
And bade me live to die no more.
Streams copious as yon purple tide:
Who urged the hand that pierced his side ?
Pours on his head what's due to thine ! 3 Fast and yet faster flow, my tears!
Now break this heart, and drown these eyes
And, pleading for his murderers, dies !
L. M. 164. Christ crucified, the Wisdom and Porder of God. I NATURE with open volume stands,
To spread her Maker's praise abroad;
Shows something worthy of a God. 2 But, in the grace that rescued man,
His brighiest form of glory shines ;
In precious blood and crimson lines. 3 Oh! the sweet wonders of that cross,
Where Christ, the Saviour, loyed and died : Her noblest life my spirit draws,
From his dear wounds and bleeding side, 4 I would for ever speak his name,
In sounds to mortal ears unknown;
And worship at his Father's throne.
Crucifixion to the World.
On which the Prince of glory died,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Save in the death of Christ, my God;
I sacrifice them to his blood.
Sorrow and love flow mingled down:
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
That were a present far too small;
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
A bitter and heart:rending cry!
Bespeaks thy soul's deep agony.
On thee, thou spotless, holy One!
Conspired to tempi God's only Son.
These thou could'st bear, nor once repine;
Unutterable pangs were thine.
Let pealing anthems rend the sky!
He died, that we might never die.
If e'er I lose its strong control,
Melt and reclaim my wandering soul.