2 Why is his body rack'd with pains,

And

wrung

with keenest smart?

Why flows the blood from all his veins,
Why torn with grief his heart?
3 All righteousness did he fulfil,
No sin did ever know;
He never thought nor acted ill;
Why was he wounded so?

4 Alas! I know the reason why:
Our num'rous sins he bore;
This caus'd his bitter agony,

This wounded him so sore.
5. But hence our confidence begins;
For we may boldly say,
That thus, by bearing all our sins,
He took them all away.

6 Our God is fully reconcil'd,
His justice satisfy'd;

Each sinner may become his child,
Since Jesus bled and dy❜d.

7 Come then, ye needy sinners, come,
If ye accept, he'll give;
O suffer him to lead you home;
Whoever will, may live.

2 His flesh istorn with whips and nails;
His strength decays, his spirit fails:
His side is pierc'd, his heart is broke:
Our sins upon himself he took.

3 The thieves expiring on each side
Proclaim the crimes for which they dy'd:
But what, dear Saviour, hast thou done?
Thou dyd'st for sin, but not thine own.
4 Jesus, and didst thou bleed for me?
O great, O boundless mystery!
Ibow my head in deep amaze,
And silently adore thy grace.

108.

T. 582.

GO forth in spirit, go

To Calv'ry's holy mount; See there thy Friend between two Suff'ring on thy account. [thieves,

2 Fall at his cross's foot,

And say, "My God and Lord, Here let me dwell, and view those wounds,

Which life for me procur'd."

3 Fix on that face thine eye;

Why dost thou backward shrink? What a base rebel thou hast been To Christ, thou now dost think. 4 Fear not; for this is he

Who always loves us first, And with white robes of righteousness Delights to deck the worst,

5 Or art thou at a loss

What thou to him shalt say?
Be but sincere, and all thy case
Just as it is display.

6 His blood thy cause will plead,
Thy plaintive cry he'll hear,
Look with an eye of pity down,
And grant thee all thy pray'r,

109. T. 14.

BEHOLD the Saviour of mankind
Nail'd to the shameful tree;
How vast the love that him inclin'd
To bleed and die for thee!

ALL hail thou Lamb of God,
Bearing sin's pond'rous load:
Thanks for thy agony,
Thy bloody sweat for me,
Thy suff'ring willingly;

All hail, 'midst pain and scorn,
Spit upon, crown'd with thorn,
And by the Scourges torn!
All hail, in purple clad.

Sinners, sinners,
Ah! behold the Man!

Sinners, sinners,

Ah! behold the Man!

2 Bearing the cross's weight,
Thou mountest Calv'ry's height,
I weeping follow thee,
For all is done for me,
For me, thine enemy!
All hail! as in my stead,
Thou, a sin-off'ring made,
In torments bow'st thy head;
Thanks for thy pierced side!
Sinners, sinners,
All ye who
pass by,

Hearken, hearken,
Mark his dying cry!

3 "'Tis finish'd," Jesus cries,
He bows his head, and dies;
The vail is rent in twain,
Burst is the captive's chain,
Man is restor❜d again!

All hail! in death though pale,
Victorious Lamb! all hail!
Then did thine arm prevail :
O glorious sacrifice!
Ever, ever

To thy promis'd word

Faithful, faithful

Saviour, God and Lord!
120.* T. 208.

HAPPY meditation
On my Saviour's passion,
On his death and grave;
It can't be expressed
What a feeling blessed,

At such times I have,
When I Christ in spirit view,
In his suff'ring scenes revising
My Lord agonizing.

2 All the pains and sorrows
He endured for us;

All the tears he shed,
When he in the garden,
Bearing our sin's burden,
In soul's anguish pray'd:
Yea, each part of toil and smart
In my soul excites a motion
To intense devotion.

3 Soul, from toil reposing,
Languid eyes, just closing,
Side, pierc'd with a spear;
Limbs, to pain inured,
Feet, for me thro' bored,

Hands, the nails did tear;
Head, by right divinely bright,
Crown'd with pointed thorns& bruised,
Spit on and abused;

4 Breast, which heaves with sorrows;
Back, plough'd o'er with furrows,
From the scourges sore;
Arms, in pain extended,
Shoulders, raw and wounded,
Hair distain'd with gore;
Sacred Lips, in death how pale!
Jesus Christ, thy bitter passion
Prompts my adoration.

5 Lamb of God, thus dearest
Thou to me appearest;

O might I each breath
Spend, while here I'm living,
In praise and thanksgiving
For thy wounds and death!
A poor sinner still I am,

Ah! behold me with compassion,
Grant me consolation.

3 Now with tears of love and joy, We remember all his pain, Sighs and groans and dying cry;

For the Lamb for us was slain, And, from death our souls to save, Once for us lay in the grave. 4 Hither, sinners, all repair,

And with Jesus Christ be dead, All are safe from Satan's snare,

Who to Jesus' tomb have fled; Here the weary and opprest Find a never-ending rest.

5 Wounded Saviour, full of grace, Hast thou suffer'd thus for me? Ah! I hide my blushing face

How have I requited thee? Should not I with ardor burn Some love's token to return?

;

6 But alas, the spark how small!
Scarcely seen at all to glow;
Lord, thou know'st how short I fall,
And my growth in grace how slow;
Yet when to thy cross Ifly,
Soon all strange affections die.
7 In thy death is all my trust,

I have thee my refuge made,
And when once consign'd to dust,
In the tomb my body's laid,
Then with saved souls above
I will praise thy dying love.

8 But while here I'm left behind,
Burden'd with infirmity,
May I help and comfort find,
Visiting Gethsemane,
Calvary and Joseph's tomb,
Till my sabbath's also come.

122. T. 114.

NOW haste, my soul, with awe and deep devotion,

To Joseph's tomb, thy Saviour to behold Laid in the dust, his body pale and cold. Ah! in thy stead he drank death's bitter potion:

He as a lamb was wounded, bruis'd and slain,

For thee eternal happiness to gain.

2 For worthless me (O Godlike condescension !)

The Maker of creation's boundless sphere,

Whom all celestial hosts as Lord revere, Whose pow'r divine is past their comprehension,

Became a man, my guilty soul to save, And rests from labor in the silent grave.

3 Here is the place where weary souls may tarry;

Tho' near the dead, death can no pow'r

assume,

For life, eternal life rests in this tomb. Come then, my pardon'd soul, with humble Mary [sleep; Behold thy wearied Master sweetly Admire his matchless love, adore and weep.

4 I view in thee, thou wan and mangled body,

My Lord, Redeemer, Priest and Sacrifice,

The Bread of life, the Pearl of greatest price,

My soul's Belov'd, the Fairest, white and ruddy,

The promis'd Seed, the Lord our Righteousness,

The long-predicted Lamb and Prince of peace.

5 Here will I stay, engag'd in contemplation

On my Redeemer's agony and death; This shall increase and fix

my wav'ring

faith In thee, the Finisher of my salvation; Yea, in my soul and body mortify The sins which did my Jesus crucify.

6 Thou Lord of life! fix thou

and senses

my

soul