97

"HE night of agony hath passed;

The day of doom hath dawned at last :
With fainting steps His Cross He bears;
Foul taunts and curses meet His ears:
The Lord of Life is crucified;

A felon hangs on either side:
The people stand beholding.

The powers of darkness do their worst,
The nail, the thorn, the torturing thirst:
Black tempests o'er His spirit break,
'My God, My God, dost Thou forsake? '
''Tis finished!' Lo! He bows His head;
The Saviour of mankind is dead:
The people stand beholding.

98

SACRED Head, surrounded

O bleeding Head, so wounded,
Reviled, and put to scorn!
Death's pallid hue comes o'er Thee,
The glow of life decays;
Yet angel-hosts adore Thee,
And tremble as they gaze.

I see Thy strength and vigour.
All fading in the strife,
And death with cruel rigour
Bereaving Thee of life:
O agony and dying!

O love to sinners free!
Jesu! all grace supplying,
Oh! turn Thy face on me!

In this Thy bitter Passion,
Good Shepherd, think of me
With Thy most sweet compassion,
Unworthy though I be:
Beneath Thy Cross abiding

For ever would I rest,

In Thy dear love confiding,
And with Thy presence blest.

99

SON

ON of Man, to Thee we cry ;
By the holy mystery

Of Thy dwelling here on earth,
By Thy pure and holy birth,
Lord, Thy presence let us see,
Thou our Light and Saviour be!

Lamb of God, to Thee we cry ;
By Thy bitter Agony,

By Thy pangs, to us unknown,
By Thy spirit's parting groan,
Lord, Thy presence let us see,
Thou our Light and Saviour be!

Prince of Life, to Thee we cry ;
By Thy glorious majesty,
By Thy triumph o'er the grave,
By Thy power to help and save,
Lord, Thy presence let us see,
Thou our Light and Saviour be!

Lord of Glory, God Most High,
Man exalted to the sky,

With Thy love our bosom fill,
Help us to perform Thy will;
Then Thy glory we shall see,
Thou wilt bring us home to Thee.

100

WHEN 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.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
Save in the Cross of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.

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

Or thorns compose so rich a crown ?

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an offering far too small :
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

ΙΟΙ

TH

HERE is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins ;

And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
And there may I, as vile as he,
Wash all my sins away.

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,

Till all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved to sin no more.

E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming Love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.

Then in a nobler, sweeter song

I'll sing Thy power to save;

When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave.