3 Thy blood, dear Jesus-thine alone, Hath sovereign virtue to atone :- Here will we rest our only plea, When we approach, great God, to thee.
1 NOT all the blood of beasts, On Jewish altars slain,
Could give the guilty conscience peace, Or wash away the stain. 2 But Christ, the heavenly Lamb, Takes all our sins away; A sacrifice of nobler name, And richer blood than they. Aff 3 My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of thine, While like a penitent I stand, And there confess my sin. 4 My soul looks back to see The burdens thou didst bear, When hanging on the cursed tree, And hopes her guilt was there.
To see the curse remove;
We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice, And sing his bleeding love.
Death and Resurrection of Christ. 1 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 Ye saints, approach!-the anguish view Of him who groans beneath your load; He gives his precious life for you,
For you he sheds his precious blood. 3 Here's love and grief beyond degree! The Lord of glory dies for men!- But, lo! what sudden joys we see! Jesus, the dead, revives again! 4 The rising God forsakes the tomb; Up to his Father's court he flies; Cherubic legions guard him home, And shout him welcome to the skies!
5 Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell How high our great Deliverer reigns, Sing how he spoiled the hosts of hell, And led the tyrant death in chains! 6 Say, "Live forever, glorious King,
Born to redeem, and strong to save!" Then ask-" O death, where is thy sting! And where thy victory, boasting grave!"
C. M. Warwick. Brattle Street.
Sufficiency of the Atonement.
1 THERE 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 may I, though vile as he, Wash all my sins away.
3 Thou dying Lamb! thy precious blood Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed church of God Are saved, to sin no more.
4 Since first, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme, And shall be, till I die.
5 And when this feeble, stammering tongue Lies silent in the grave-
Then, in a nobler, sweeter song, I'll sing thy power to save.
Christ the Rock of Ages.
1 ROCK of ages! cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee; Let the water and the blood, From thy side, a healing flood, Be of fear and sin the cure; Save from wrath, and make me pure. 2 Should my tears forever flow, Should my zeal no languor know, This for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and thou alone: In my hand no price I bring, Simply to thy cross 1 cling.
3 While I draw this fleeting breath, When mine eye-lids close in death, When I rise to worlds unknown, And behold thee on thy throne, Rock of ages! cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee.
Christ the Physician of the Soul.
1 DEEP are the wounds which sin has made; Where shall the sinner find a cure? In vain, alas! is nature's aid;
The work exceeds her utmost power. 2 But can no sovereign balm be found? And is no kind physician nigh, To ease the pain, and heal the wound, Ere life and hope forever fly?
3 Yes, there's a great physician near; Look up, my fainting soul, and live! See, in his heavenly smiles appear Such help as nature cannot give! 4 See, in the Saviour's dying blood, Life, health, and bliss abundant flow' "Tis only that dear sacred flood
Can ease thy pain—and heal thy wo.
1 WHY droops my soul, with grief oppressed? Whence these wild tumults in my breast? Is there no balm to heal my wound? No kind physician to be found?
2 Raise to the cross thy tearful eyes; Behold the Prince of glory dies! He dies extended on the tree, And sheds a sovereign balm for thee. 3 Dear Saviour, at thy feet I lie, Here to receive a cure, or die;
But grace forbids that painful fear- Almighty grace, which triumphs here. 4 Thou wilt withdraw the poisoned dart, Bind up and heal the wounded heart; With blooming health my face adorn, And change the gloomy night to morn
5 Exult, my soul, with holy joy; Hosannas be thy blest employ, Salvation thine eternal theme,
And swell the song with Jesus' name.
S. M. Pentonville. St. Thomas
Christ the Bread of Life.
1 BEHOLD the gift of God!
Sinners, adore his name,
Who shed for us his precious blood- Who bore our curse and shame.
2 Behold the living bread
Which Jesus came to give, By dying in the sinner's stead, That he might ever live.
3 The Lord delights to give;
He knows you've nought to buy: To Jesus haste-this bread receive, And you shall never die.
Christ the Sun of Righteousness.
1 WE lift our hearts to thee, Thou Day-star from on high; The sun itself is but thy shade, Yet cheers both earth and sky. 2 Oh let thy rising beams
Dispel the shades of night; And let the glories of thy love, Come like the morning light. 3 How beauteous nature now!- How dark and sad before! With joy we view the pleasing change, And nature's God adore.
4 May we this life improve,
To mourn for errors past;
And live this short revolving day As if it were our last.
1 CHRIST, whose glory fills the skies, Christ, the true, the only light, Sun of Righteousness, arise,
Triumph o'er the shades of night: Day-spring from on high, be near; Day-star, in my heart appear.
2 Dark and cheerless is the morn, If thy light is hid from me; Joyless is the day's return, Till thy mercy's beams I see; Till they inward light impart, Glad my eyes, and warm my heart. 3 Visit, then, this soul of mine, Pierce the gloom of sin and grief; Fill me, radiant Sun divine!
Scatter all my unbelief:
More and more thyself display, Shining to the perfect day.
Christ the Light of the World.
1 LIGHT of those whose dreary dwelling Borders on the shades of death! Rise on us, thyself revealing,
Rise, and chase the clouds beneath. 2 Thou, of life and light Creator! In our deepest darkness rise; Scatter all the night of nature, Pour the day upon our eyes. 3 Still we wait for thine appearing; Life and joy thy beams impart; Chasing all our fears, and cheering Every meek and contrite heart. 4 Save us, in thy great compassion, Oh thou Prince of peace and love! Give the knowledge of salvation, Fix our hearts on things above. 5 By thine all-sufficient merit,
Every burdened soul release; Every weary, wandering spirit Guide into thy perfect peace.
Christ a Refuge. 1 JESUS, Saviour of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly; While the raging billows roll, While the tempest still is high: All my trust on thee is stayed; All my help from thee I bring: Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of thy wing.
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