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3 Thy blood, dear Jesus-thine alone,
Hath sovereign virtue to atone:
When we approach, great God, to thee.
On Jewish altars slain,
Or wash away the stain.
Takes all our sins away;
And richer blood than they.
On that dear head of thine,
And there confess my sin.
The burdens thou didst bear,
And hopes her guilt was there. [ 5 Believing, we rejoice
To see the curse remove;
L. M. 115
Lo! Salem's daughters woep around!
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.
The Lord of glory dies for men !
Jésus, the dead, revives again!
Up to his Father's court he flies;
And shout him welcome to the skies !
Warwick. Brattle Street,
5 Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell
llow 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!" 116
Sufficiency of the Atonement.
Drawn from Immanuel's veins;
Lose all their guilty stains.
That fountain, in his day;
Wash all my sins away.
Shall never lose its power,
Are saved, to sin no more.
Thy flowing wounds supply,
And shall be, till I die.
Lies silent in the grave-
Christ the Rock of Ages.
Let me hide myself in thee;
Save from wrath, and make me pure.
zeal no languor know,
3 While I draw this fleeting breath,
When mine eye-lids close in death,
Let me hide myself in thee. 118
L. M. Medway. Middlebury.
Where shall the sinner find a cure ?
The work exceeds her utmost power.
And is no kind physician nigh,
Look up, my fainting soul, and live!
Such help as nature cannot give!
Life, health, and bliss abundant flow! 'Tis only that dear sacred flood
Can ease thy pain—and heal thy wo. 119
Hebron. Nazareth. 1 WHY droops my soul, with grief oppressed?
Whence these wild tumults in my breast?
No kind physician to be found ?
Behold the Prince of glory dies !
And sheds a sovereign balm for thee.
Here to receive a cure, or die;
Almighty grace, which triumphs here.
Bind up and heal the wounded heart;
[ 5 Exult, my soul, with holy joy;
Hosannas be thy blest employ,
Pentonville, St. Thomas. 120
Christ the Bread of Life.
Sinners, adore his name,
Who bore our curse and shame.
Which Jesus came to give,
That he might ever live.
He knows you've nought to buy:
Pentonville. Dover. 121
Christ the Sun of Righteousness.
Thou Day-star from on high;
Yet cheers both earth and sky.
Dispel the shades of night;
Come like the morning light.
How dark and sad before !
And nature's God adore.
To mourn for errors past;
As if it were our last.
Christ, the true, the only light,
Triumph o'er the shades of night:
88 & 78.
2 Dark and cheerless is the morn,
If thy light is hid from me;
Till thy mercy's beams I see ;
Glad my eyes, and warm my heart.
Pierce the gloom of sin and grief;
Scatter all my unbelief:
Sicilian Hymn. 123
Christ the Light of the World.
Borders on the shades of death!
Rise, and chase the clouds beneath.
In our deepest darkness rise ;
Pour the day upon our eyes.
Life and joy thy beams impart;
Every meek and contrite heart.
Oh thou Prince of peace and love!
Fix our hearts on things above.
Every burdened soul release;
Christ a Refuge.
Let me to thy bosom fly;
While the tempest stil! is high:
All my help from thee Ibring:
With the shadow of thy wing.