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O, by all thy pains and wo,
Hear our solemn litany.
By thy human griefs and fears,
By thine agony of pray'r,
Hear our solemn litany.
By the seal'd sepulchral stone,
HYMN 57. 1 MY God, permit me not to be
A stranger to myself and thee:
Forgetful of my highest love.
And thus debase my heav'nly birth?
And all my purest joys forego ?
Thy grace, O Lord, can draw me thence:
What snares beset my way!
And hourly watch and pray.
2 How oft my mournful thoughts complain,
And melt in flowing tears!
How strong my foes and fears ! 3 O gracious God, in whom I live,
My feeble efforts aid;
Though trembling and afraid.
When foes and fears prevail; And bear my fainting spirit up,
Or soon my strength will fai).
Or lure my feet aside,
My guardian and my guide.
And bid the tempter flee; And let me never, never, stray
From happiness and thee.
HYMN 592 1 HOW oft, alas ! this wretched heart
Has wander'd from the Lord! How oft my roving thoughts depart,
Forgetful of his word ! 2 Yet sov’reign mercy calls, “ Return;"
Dear Lord, and may I come? My vile ingratitude I mourn;
0, take the wand'rer home. 3 And canst thou, wilt thou yet forgive,
And bid my crimes remove ? And shall a pardon'd rebel live
To speak thy wond'rous love ?
How glorious, how divine !
So vile a heart as mine.
Dear Saviour, I adore;
The darkness shineth as the light,
Search, prove my heart; it looks to thee,
O burst its bonds, and set it free!
Bind my affections to the cross ;
Be clean, as thou, my Lord, art clean. 3 If in this darksome wild I stray,
Be thou my light, be thou my way;
No harm, while thou, my God, art near, 4 When rising floods my soul o'erflow,
When sinks my heart in waves of wo,
And raise my head, and cheer my heart. 5 Saviour! where'er thy steps I see,
Dauntless, untir'd, I follow thee:
(See Hymns on Repentance.) PASSION WEEK, AND GOOD FRIDAY HYMN 61.
(IIL 4.) Isaiah lxiii. 1-4. 1 WHO is this that comes from Edom,
All his raiment stain'd with blood, To the captive speaking freedom,
Bringing and bestowing good; Glorious in the garb he wears,
Glorious in the spoil he bears ? 2 'Tis the Saviour, now victorious,
Trav’ling onward in his might; 'Tis the Saviour, O how glorious
To his people is the sight! Satan conquer'd, and the grave,
Jesus now is strong to save. 3 Why that blood his raiment staining ?
'Tis the blood of many slain; Of his foes there's none remaining,
None, the contest to maintain: Fall’n they are, no more to rise,
All their glory prostrate lies. 4 Mighty Victor, reign for ever,
Wear the crown so dearly won ! Never shall thy people, never,
Cease to sing what thou hast done! Thou hast fought thy people's foes; Thou hast heal'd thy people's woes!
(L. M.) 1 WHEN I survey the wond'rous cross
On which the Prince of glory died, My richest gain I count but loss,
Aud pour contempt on all my pride, 8 Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the cross of Christ my God: All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to thy blood. 3 See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down; Did e'er such love and sorrow meet?
Or thorns compose a Saviour's crown? 4 Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a tribute far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my life, my soul, my all. HYMN 63.
(C. M.) 1 BEHOLD the Saviour of mankind
Nail'd to the shameful tree;
To bleed and die for me!
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 !
And in full glory shine;
(C. M) 1 MY Saviour hanging on the tree,
In agonies and blood,
As near his cross I stood.
Can I forget that look ;
Though not a word he spoke.
And plung'd me in despair;
I saw my sins his blood had spilt,
And help'd to nail him there. 4 Alas! I knew not what I did;
But now my tears are vain;
For I the Lord have slain.
" I freely all forgive; 6 This blood is for thy ransom paid,
“ I die that thou may’st live.”
In all its blackest hue,
(C. M.) 1 FROM whence these direful omens round,
Which heav'n and earth amaze? Wherefore do earthquakes cleave the ground ?
Why hides the sun his rays ?
And nature sympathize!
Their Maker, Jesus, dies !
His all-atoning blood !
My Saviour and my God!
For me this death is berne;
And pointed ev'ry thorn.
Break, Lord, its tyrant chain;
(L M.) St. John xix. 30. 1 'TIS finish'd-so the Saviour cried,
And meekly bow'd his head and died; 'Tis finish'1-yes, the work is done,
The battle fought, the vict'ry won.
And all the ancient prophets said,