Изображения страниц

2 Follow to the judgment hall,

View the Lord of life arraign'd;
Oh, the wormwood and the gall!

Oh, the pangs His soul sustain'd!
Shun not suff'ring, shame, or loss;
Learn of Him to bear the cross.
3 Calv'ry's mournful mountain climb;
There, adoring at His feet,
Mark that miracle of time,

God's own sacrifice complete:
"It is finished," hear Him cry:
Learn of Jesus Christ to die.

4 Early hasten to the tomb

Where they laid His breathless clay-
All is solitude and gloom-

Who hath taken Him away?

Christ is risen; He meets our eyes!


Saviour, teach us so to rise.

C. M

PILGRIM through this lonely world,
The blessed Saviour passed;

A mourner all His life was He,
A dying Lamb at last!

2 That tender heart, which felt for all,
For us its life-blood gave;

It found on earth no resting-place,
Save only in the grave!

3 Such was our Lord; and shall we fear
The cross with all its scorn?

Or love a faithless, evil world,

That wreath'd His brow with thorn?

No: facing all its frowns or smiles,
Like Him, obedient still,

We homeward press, through storm or calm,
To Zion's blessed hill.

5 Dead to the world, with Him who died
To win our hearts, our love,

We, risen with our risen Head,
In spirit dwell above.


C. M. Double.

when we the path

Which Thou on earth hast trod;

To man Thy wondrous love and grace,
Thy faithfulness to God:

Thy love, by man so sorely tried,
Proves stronger than the grave;
The very spear that pierced Thy side
Drew forth the blood to save.

2 Faithful amid unfaithfulness,
'Mid darkness only light,

Thou didst Thy Father's name confess,
And in His will delight;
Unmoved by Satan's subtle wiles,

Or suff'ring, shame, and loss:
Thy path, uncheer'd by earthly smiles,
Led only to the cross.

3 O Lord! with sorrow and with shame,
Before Thee we confess

How little we, who bear Thy name,
Thy mind, Thy ways express.
Give us Thy meek, Thy lowly mind;
We would obedient be;

And all our rest and pleasure find
In learning, Lord, of Thee.

123 (119).


L. M.

BEHOLD, the blind their sight receive!

Behold, the dead awake and live!

The dumb speak wonders, and the lame
Leap like the hart, and bless His name.
2 Thus doth th' eternal Spirit own
And seal the mission of the Son;
The Father vidicates His cause,
While He hangs bleeding on the cross.
3 He dies; the heavens in mourning stood:
He rises, and appears a God.

Behold the Lord ascending high,
No more to bleed, no more to die.
4 Hence, and forever, from my heart
I bid my doubts and fears depart;
And to those hands my soul resign,
Which bear credentials so divine.

124 (781).

AND didst Thou, Jesus, condescend,

When veil'd in human

To heal the sick, the lame, the blind,
And drive disease away?

2 Didst Thou regard the beggar's cry,
And cause the blind to see?
Jesus, Thou Son of David, hear,
Have mercy, too, on me.

3 And didst Thou pity mortal woe,
And sight and health restore?
Oh, pity, Lord, and save my soul,
Which needs Thy mercy more.

C. M.

4 Didst Thou thy trembling servant raise,
When sinking in the wave?

I perish, Lord; oh, save my soul;
For Thou alone canst save.


125 (122).


IS midnight; and on Olive's brow
The star is dimm'd that lately shone:

'Tis midnight; in the garden now

The suffering Saviour prays alone.
2 'Tis midnight; and from all removed,
Immanuel wrestles lone, with fears;
E'en the disciple that He loved

Heeds not his Master's grief and tears.
3 'Tis midnight; and for others' guilt
The Man of Sorrows weeps in blood;
Yet He that hath in anguish knelt
Is not forsaken by His God.

4 T is midnight; and from ether-plains
Is borne the song that angels know:
Unheard by mortals are the strains
That sweetly soothe the Saviour's woe.
11s. [streams
HOU sweet gliding Kedron, by thy silver
Our Saviour at midnight, when moonlight's

126 (785).

pale beams [stray, Shone bright on the waters, would frequently And lose in thy murmurs the toils of the day. 2 How damp were the vapors that fell on His head! How hard was His pillow, how humble His bed! The angels, astonish'd, grew sad at the sight, And follow'd their Master with solemn delight.

3 Oh, garden of Olives, thou dear, honor'd spot, The fame of thy wonders shall ne'er be forgot; The theme most transporting to seraphs above; The triumph of sorrow- the triumph of love. Come, saints, and adore Him; come, bow at His feet;

Oh, give Him the glory, the praise that is meet; Let joyful hosannas unceasing arise,

And join the full chorus that gladdens the skies.

127 (129).


L. M

HEN I survey the wondrous cross On which the Prince of glory died, My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride. 2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

Save in the death of Christ my God; All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood.

3 See from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down; Did e'er such love and sorrow meet?

Or thorns compose so rich a crown? 4 Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small; Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

128 (133).


LAS! and did my Saviour bleed
And did my Sov'reign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?

C. M

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »