Let the angel of the Lord, The first-born victims kill : Wilt Thou not a difference make, See us cover'd with the blood, HYMN 20. HARK! the voice of love and mercy, Sounds aloud from Calvary! See it rends the rocks asunder, Shakes the earth, and veils the sky! "It is finish'd !" Hear the dying Saviour cry! "It is finish'd !" Oh what pleasure Do those gracious words afford ! Heav'nly blessings, without measure, Flow to us from Christ the Lord. "It is finish'd !" Saints, the dying words record. Tune your hearts anew, ye seraphs! Glory to the bleeding Lamb! 1 SING HYMN 21. my Saviour's wondrous death He conquer'd when He fell : "'Tis finish'd," said His dying breath, And shook the gates of hell. " 'Tis finish'd," our Immanuel cries, His cross a sure foundation laid When through the regions of the dead Exalted at His Father's side, Sits our victorious Lord : The saints, from His propitious eye, And all the sons of darkness fly The terror of His frowns. D |