And waves came rolling high and dark,
And the tall mast was bowed.
2 And men stood breathless in their dread,
And baffled in their skill; —
But One was there, who rose and said
To the wild sea, "Be still!"
3 And the wind ceased; it ceased! that word
Passed through the gloomy sky,
The troubled billows knew their Lord,
And sank beneath his eye.
4 Thou that didst rule the angry hour,
And tame the tempest's mood,
O, send thy Spirit forth in power
O'er our dark souls to brood!
5 Thou that didst bow the billows' pride,
Thy mandates to fulfil,
Speak, speak, to passion's raging tide,
Speak and say, — "Peace, be still ! "
"If I be lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men unto me."
Behold the amazing sight,
The Saviour lifted high !
Behold the Son of God's delight
Expire in agony !
2 For whom, for whom, my heart,
Were all these sorrows borne?
Why did he feel that piercing smart,
And meet that various scorn?
And all in torture died;
'T was love that bowed his fainting head
And oped his gushing side.
I see, and I adore,
In sympathy of love;
I feel the strong, attractive power
To lift my soul above.
Drawn by such cords as these,
Let all the earth combine,
With cheerful ardor, to confess
The energy divine.
6 In thee our hearts unite,
Nor share thy griefs alone,
But from thy cross pursue their flight,
To thy triumphant throne.
185.
The Cross of Christ.
1 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.
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.
Sufferings, Death, and Resurrection of Christ.
AUTHOR of life and bliss !
Thy goodness I adore.
O, give me strength to speak thy praise,
And grace to love thee more!
2 First for this world, so fair,
My daily thanks shall rise ;
For every comfort, every joy,
Thy bounteous hand supplies.
3 But yet a nobler cause
Demands my warmest love;
Can words describe the wondrous gift
Descending from above ?
4 The Saviour dwelt on earth;
He died, that we might live ;
Endured the sorrows of the cross,
Immortal hope to give.
5 Ah, who can tell the scorn
That our Redeemer bore ?
Or who describe the mental grief,
Which his blest bosom tore?
While darkness veiled the skies.
But, lo! - he bursts the bands of death;
To glory see him rise !
Father! this work is thine;
For us thou gav'st thy Son.
O, may we all devoted be,
And live to thee alone!
Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of Christ.
1 THE gracious Saviour bowed his head,
And drew his parting breath;
And as he lived to vanquish sin,
He died to conquer death.
2 Three days, - so high behests ordained,
Death triumphed o'er his prize ;
The hour of grace at length arrived,
Behold the Conqueror rise !
3 He rose triumphant to his God;
He winged to heaven his flight,
Where endless ages he shall reign
Enthroned in realms of light.
4 Wondrous the grace, that gave to death
The best-beloved of God;
That bade the Saviour feel for us
Affliction's keenest rod.
5 With every grateful thought inspired,
Devoutly let us raise
Our humble voice to mercy's throne,
In never-ceasing praise.
6 Nor this be all; the grateful life
Should speak the thankful mind: The heart that feels redemption's good Should be to good inclined.
The Resurrection of Christ.
1 ANGEL! roll the stone away!
Death! give up thy mighty prey!
See, he rises from the tomb,
Glowing in immortal bloom.
2 Shout, ye saints, in rapturous song;
Let the notes be sweet and strong;
Hail the Son of God, this morn,
From his sepulchre new-born!
3 Christians, dry your flowing tears;
Calm those unbelieving fears;
Doubt no more his power to save ;
See his own deserted grave !
4 Powers of heaven, celestial choirs!
Sing and sweep your sounding lyres ;
Sons of men! in joyful strain
Hail your mighty Saviour's reign.
5 Every note with rapture swell,
And the Saviour's triumph tell;
Where, O death, is now thy sting?
Where thy terrors, vanquished king ?
|