LAS! and did my Saviour bleed,
My gracious Sovereign die?
Did He devote His sacred head
For such a worm as I?
2 Was it for sins that I have done
He suffered on the tree ?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!
3 Well might the sun in darkness hide,
And shut his glory in,
When Christ the mighty Saviour died,
For man the creature's sin.
4 Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt mine eyes to tears.
5 But floods of tears can never pay
The debt of love I owe;
Lord, I devote myself to Thee,
"Tis all that I can do.
SING my Saviour's wondrous death;
He conquered when He fell;
""Tis finished!" said His dying breath,
And shook the gates of hell.
2 ""Tis finished!" our Immanuel cries,
The dreadful work is done;
Hence shall His throne auspicious rise,
Behold His reign begun.
3 His cross a sure foundation laid
For glory and renown,
When through the regions of the dead
He passed to reach the crown.
4 Exalted at His Father's side
Sits our victorious Lord!
To heaven or hell His hands divide;
Eternal His award.
5 The saints from His propitious eye
Await their several crowns,
While all the sons of darkness fly
The terror of His frowns.
1 HERE is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel's veins ;
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.
2 The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
And there have I, as vile as he,
Washed all my sins away.
3 Dear dying Lamb! Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved, to sin no more.
4 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.
5 Then in a nobler, sweeter song
I'll sing Thy power to save,
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue Lies silent in the grave.
6 Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared,
Unworthy though I be,
For me a sure and free reward,
A golden harp for me.
7 'Tis strung, and tuned for endless years,
And formed by power divine,
To sound in God the Father's ears,
No other name but Thine.
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.
2 When the woes of life o'ertake me,
Hopes deceive and fears annoy,
Never shall the cross forsake me,
Lo! it glows with peace and joy.
3 When the sun of bliss is beaming
Light and love upon my way;
From the cross the radiance streaming
Adds more lustre to the day.
4 Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,
By the cross are sanctified;
Peace is there, that knows no measure,
Joys that through all time abide.
5 In the cross of Christ I glory;
Towering o'er the wrecks of time,
All the light of sacred story,
Gathers round its head sublime.
HE followers of the Son of God
Have each a daily cross to bear;
And he who treads where Jesus trod,
Must not refuse His cup to share.
2 But sin can ne'er be crucified,
By cross or suffering of our own;
The cross whereon Immanuel died,
Alone can win the victor's crown.
3 We own but one Gethsemane,
And there the debt of woe was paid;
We know but one true Calvary,
And there was sin's atonement made.
4 'Tis sweet, O Lord, Thy cup to share,
Of true discipleship the sign;
And easy is the cross to bear,
If faith beholdeth only Thine.
5 Then grant us grace to drink the cup,
Whate'er that daily cup may be;
And cheerfully the cross take up,
And bear it meekly after Thee.
HE dies! the Friend of sinners dies!
Lo! Salem's daughters weep around; A solemn darkness veils the skies; A sudden trembling shakes the ground. 2 Come, saints, and trace in sad review His grief, who bowed beneath your load, And gave His life, the just and true, To reconcile your souls to God.
3 O love and grief beyond degree,
The Lord of glory dies for men !
But lo, what wondrous things we see,
He that was dead revives again!
4 The Conqueror bursts the sealed tomb,
Behold Him from the dead arise!
Angelic legions guard Him home,
And shout Him welcome to the skies.
5 Then, O ye saints, rejoice and tell
How high your great Deliverer reigns;
Sing how He spoiled the hosts of hell,
And led the monster death in chains.
6 Cry! live for ever, glorious King!
Born to redeem, and strong to save;
O death, where is thy boasted sting?
Where is thy victory, O grave?
OT all the blood of beasts,
On Jewish altars slain,
Could give the guilty conscience peace,
Or wash away the stain.
But Christ, the heavenly Lamb,
Takes all our sins away;
A Sacrifice of nobler name,
And richer blood than they.
My faith would lay her hand.
On that dear head of Thine,
While like a penitent I stand,
And there confess my sin.
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