4 Then let us sit beneath his cross,

1

And gladly catch the healing stream:
All things for him account but loss,
And give up all our hearts to him;
Of nothing think or speak beside,
My Lord, my Love is crucify'd.

Salem.] HYMN 188. C. M.

B

EHOLD the Saviour of mankind
Nail'd to the shameful tree!

How vast the love that him inclin'd
To bleed and die for thee!

2 Hark, how he groans! while nature shakes,
And earth's strong pillars bend!
The temple's veil in sunder breaks,
The solid marbles rend.

3 'Tis done! the precious ransom's paid,
"Receive my soul!" he cries:

See where he bows his sacred head!
He bows his head, and dies!

4 But soon he'll break death's envious chain, .. And in full glory shine:

1

O Lamb of God, was ever pain,
Was ever love like thine!

Burslem.] HYMN 189. L. M.

him who did salvation bring,
could for ever think and sing;
Arise, ye needy, he'll relieve;
Arise, ye guilty, he'll forgive.

2 Ask but his grace, and lo, 'tis given!
Ask, and he turns your hell to heaven;
Though sin and sorrow wound my soul,
Jesus, thy balm will make it whole.

3 To shame our sins he blush'd in blood,
He clos'd his eyes to show us God;
Let all the world fall down and know,
That none but God such love can show.
4 'Tis thee I love, for thee alone

I shed my tears and make my moan!
Where'er I am, where'er I move,
I meet the object of my love.

5 Insatiate to this spring I fly;
I drink, and yet am ever dry;

Ah! who against thy charms is proof?
Ah! who that loves can love enough?

Arlington.] HYMN 190. C. M.

1 PLUN

OLUNG'D in a gulf of dark despair,
We wretched sinners lay,

Without one cheering beam of hope,
Or spark of glimmʼring day.

2 With pitying eyes the Prince of grace Beheld our helpless grief:

He saw, and (O amazing love!)

He ran to our relief.

3 Down from the shining seats above
With joyful haste he fled;
Enter'd the grave in mortal flesh,
And dwelt among the dead.

4 O for this love let rocks and hills
Their lasting silence break!
And all harmonious human tongues,
The Saviour's praises speak.

5 Angels, assist our mighty joys;
Strike all your harps of gold;

But when you raise your highest notes,
His love can ne'er be told!

Shields.] HYMN 191.-C. M.

ALAS! and did my Saviour bleed?

And did my Sovereign die?

Would he devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?

2 Was it for crimes that I have done,
He groan'd upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

3 Well might the sun in darkness hide,
And shut his glories in;

When Christ the mighty Maker 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 drops of grief can ne'er repay
The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give myself away,
'Tis all that I can do.

Portuguese.] HYMN 192. 10's & 11's.

1

E heavens rejoice in Jesus's grace,

praise:

his

Our all-loving Saviour hath pacify'd God, And paid for his favour the price of his blood. 2 Ye mountains and vales, in praises abound, Ye hills and ye dales, continue the sound; Break forth into singing, ye trees of the wood, For Jesus is bringing lost sinners to God. 3 Atonement he made for every one,

The debt he hath paid, the work he hath done;

Shout, all the creation, below and above,
Ascribing salvation to Jesus's love.

4 His mercy hath brought salvation to all,
Who take it unbought, he frees them from thrall;
Throughout the believer his glory displays,
And perfects for ever the vessels of grace.

Luton.] HYMN 193. L. M.

on a cursed tree,

1 EXTENDED with cuust, and sweat, and

blood,

See there, the King of glory see!

Sinks, and expires, the Son of God! 2 Who, who, my Saviour, this hath done? Who could thy sacred body wound? No guilt thy spotless heart hath known, No guile hath in thy lips been found. 3 I,-I alone have done the deed!

'Tis I thy sacred flesh have torn; My sins have caus'd thee, Lord, to bleed, Pointed the nail, and fix'd the thorn.

4 For me the burden to sustain

Too great, on thee, my Lord, was laid;
To heal me, thou hast borne my pain;
To bless me, thou a curse wast made.

5 In the devouring lion's teeth,

Torn, and forsook of all, I lay;
Thou sprang'st into the jaws of death,
From death to save the helpless prey.
6 My Saviour, how shall I proclaim,
How pay the mighty debt I owe?
Let all I have, and all I am,
Ceaseless to all thy glory show.

7 Too much to thee I cannot give;
Too much I cannot do for thee:

Let all thy love, and all thy grief,
Graven on my heart for ever be!

8 The meek, the still, the lowly mind,
O may I learn from thee, my God;
And love, with softest pity join'd,

For those that trample on thy blood.

9 Still let thy tears, thy groans, thy sighs, O'erflow my eyes, and heave my breast: Till loose from flesh and earth I rise,

And ever in thy bosom rest.

Old Hundred.] HYMN 194. L. M.
1 E that pass by, behold the Man!

The Lamb of God, for sinners slain,
Weeping to Calvary pursue!

for you!

2 See! how his back the scourges tear,
While to the bloody pillar bound!
The ploughers make long furrows there,
Till all his body is one wound.

3 Nor can he thus their hate assuage;
His innocence, to death pursu❜d,
Must fully glut their utmost rage;
Hark! how they clamour for his blood!

4 To us our own Barabbas give;

Away with him, (they loudly cry :)
Away with him, not fit to live,
The vile seducer crucify!

5 His sacred limbs they stretch, they tear,
With nails they fasten to the wood!
His sacred limbs, expos'd and bare,

Or only cover'd with his blood.

6 See, there! his temples crown'd with thorn! His bleeding hands extended wide!