4 So great the grief, so sharp His woes,
The cry is forced by bitter throes,
My Father! O my Father! say,
Canst Thou remove this cup away?
5 If this be not Thy blessed will,
Thine utmost counsel I'll fulfil;
I'll bow, as I was born to do,
I'll drink it up, and drain it too.
6 My sinful soul come here, and see
What God's own Son endur'd for thee;
In dust of self-abasement fall,
Gethsemane's dread scene recal!
7 But magnify Incarnate love,
While viewing there those drops of blood;
In love to thee He suffered so,
That thou might'st His salvation know.
Y God, my God! the Saviour cries
In dying agony;
Tell me my Father! tell me, why
Thou hast forsaken me?
2 O'tis for sins of deepest dye,
That rebel men have done;
A cloud of darkness rolls between
The Father and the Son.
3 God hides His face, and Jesus groans,
The angel's harps are still;
Convulsions, terrors, darkness, fears,
The whole creation fill.
4 There all the vengeance of the law,
Blest Jesus on Thee fell!
That we might thro' Thy solemn death
And blood, be sav'd from hell.
5 Thanks to the Sacred Trinity,
The Father, Spirit, Son;
By grace divine, and bleeding love
Salvation's work is done!
DREAD mountain, mournful Calvary,
On thy accursed tree
The Saviour bleeds! He bows His head,
And dies in agony.
2 0, 'tis an agony of soul!
The dreadful weight of sin
He bears upon His bleeding heart,
And drinks its poison in!
3 Jesus divine! my spirit melt,
While at Thy cross I fall;
Here make me mourn o'er ev'ry sin,
And all my guilt recal.
4 Tho' I'm polluted, fill'd with shame,
And oft from Thee do stray,
There's virtue in Thy precious blood,
To wash my sins away.
Math. xxvii. 59-66.
HE dreadful conflict's past!
The Saviour's pains are o'er!
His soul is gone to Paradise,
To agonize no more!
In Joseph's rocky tomb
His sacred body sleeps;
A band of Roman guards around,
Its useless vigil keeps.
But holier guards are there,
Commissioned from the skies,
In waiting, till th' appointed hour
When Christ the Lord shall rise.
Fear not the grave, O you,
Who His salvation see!
Since the Redeemer slumber'd there,
Sweet must your slumbers be.
FROM the grave lo, Jesus rises!
Rises from the shades of death;
All His enemies surprises,
See, He draws immortal breath;
Jesus rises,
Rises from the shades of death!
2 Joseph's tomb is now forsaken
By the Lord, who there was laid,—
Justice bids the Son awaken,-
All His people's debt is paid!
Jesus rises,
Rises from the shades of death!
3 Grave-clothes all are left behind Him,
Angels roll the stone away;
Immortality has crown'd Him,
As He enters into day!
Jesus rises,
Rises from the shades of death!
4 Brazen gates are wide unfolded,
Iron bars are burst in twain-
Saints to Jesu's image moulded,
Now may pass with Him to reign!
Jesus rises,
Rises from the shades of death!
O! on the Mount of Olivet
The ris'n Saviour stands,
While myriad hosts from heav'n descend
In bright seraphic bands.
2 The cloud they bring receives the Lord,
On wings of wind He flies;
Soars thro' the realms of boundless space,
To reach His native skies.
3 Hark! how they hail th' ascending Priest,
In songs of sweet acclaim;
Unfold ye gates, admit Him in,
For Jesus is His name!
4 The Lord of Hosts, the Conqueror,
Immanuel divine!
He who on earth in darkness died,
Shall now in glory shine!
5 While seraphs shout His welcome home,
Come saints and help them sing;
Salvation, vict'ry, glory, power,
Crown our triumphant King!
HEN Aaron died, then Israel wept
The loss of their high Priest,
Who oft before the Lord, had borne
Their names upon his breast.
2 But our High Priest for ever lives,
Immanuel's His name;
Once made a Priest, He still abides
Unchangeably the same.
3 Within the veil the Lord appears,
His merit there He pleads;
As long as saints in bodies groan,
So long He intercedes.
4 Great is the mercy, rich and free,
We can by faith draw near;
Obtain all needful grace below,
And then with Him appear.
ESUS our everlasting Priest,
Thy matchless name we'll praise;
Whose order like Melchisedec's,
Knew not beginning days.
2 No ending life can close Thy time,
It is Thy God's decree,
That He who offer'd up Himself,
A Priest shall ever be.
3 Continually abiding One,
Thou King of Righteousness!
Monarch of Salem! condescend
Thy waiting saints to bless.
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