SELENA. L. M. 61.

ISAAC BAKER WOODBURY.

220

Transcendent love.

1 0 Love divine, what hast thou done! The incarnate God hath died for me! The Father's co-eternal Son,

Bore all my sins upon the tree! The Son of God for me hath died: My Lord, my Love, is crucified.

2 Behold him, all ye that pass by,The bleeding Prince of life and peace! Come, sinners, see your Saviour die,

And say, was ever grief like his? Come, feel with me his blood applied: My Lord, my Love, is crucified: 3 Is crucified for me and you, To bring us rebels back to God: Believe, believe the record true, Ye all are bought with Jesus' blood: Pardon for all flows from his side: My Lord, my Love, is crucified.

4 Then let us sit beneath his cross, And gladly catch the healing stream; All things for him account but loss,

And give up all our hearts to him: Of nothing think or speak beside,-My Lord, my Love, is crucified.

CHARLES WESLEY.

1 WOULD Jesus have the sinner die? Why hangs he then on yonder tree? What means that strange expiring cry? Sinners, he prays for you and me; "Forgive them, Father, O forgive! They know not that by me they live."

2 Jesus, descended from above, Our loss of Eden to retrieve, Great God of universal love,

If all the world through thee may live, In us a quickening spirit be, And witness thou hast died for me.

3 Thou loving, all-atoning Lamb, Thee-by thy painful agnoy,

Thy bloody sweat, thy grief and shame, Thy cross and passion on the tree, Thy precious death and life-I pray, Take all, take all my sins away.

4 O let thy love my heart constrain! Thy love, for every sinner free, That every fallen son of man

May taste the grace that found out me; That all mankind with me may prove Thy sovereign, everlasting love.

CHARLES WESLEY.

Lo, here I fall, my Saviour!
'Tis I deserve thy place;
Look on me with thy favor,
Vouchsafe to me thy grace.

3 What language shall I borrow
To thank thee, dearest Friend,
For this, thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
O make me thine forever;
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never,
Outlive my love to thee.

4 Be near me when I'm dying,
O show thy cross to me;
And, for my succor flying,

Come, Lord, and set me free:
These eyes, new faith receiving,
From Jesus shall not move;
For he who dies believing,
Dies safely, through thy love.

BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX, PAUL GERHARDT.
TR. BY J. W. ALEXANDER,

HANS LEO. HASSLER.

1 SING with all the sons of glory,
Sing the resurrection song!
Death and sorrow, earth's dark story,
To the former days belong:
All around the clouds are breaking,
Soon the storms of time shall cease,
In God's likeness, man awaking,

Knows the everlasting peace. 20 what glory, far exceeding

All that eye has yet perceived! Holiest hearts for ages pleading, Never that full joy conceived. God has promised, Christ prepares it, There on high our welcome waits; Every humble spirit shares it, Christ has passed the eternal gates. 3 Life eternal! heaven rejoices, Jesus lives who once was dead; Join, O man, the deathless voices, Child of God, lift up thy head! Patriarchs from the distant ages, Saints all longing for their heaven, Prophets, psalmists, seers and sages, All await the glory given.

4 Life eternal! O what wonders

Crowd on faith; what joy unknown,

When, amidst earth's closing thunders, Saints shall stand before the throne! O to enter that bright portal,

See that glowing firmament, Know, with thee, O God immortal, "Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent!"

226

WILLIAM J. IRONS.

Jesus, victor over death.

1 COME, ye saints, look here and wonder;
See the place where Jesus lay:
He has burst his bands asunder;
He has borne our sins away;
Joyful tidings!

Yes, the Lord has risen to-day.

2 Jesus triumphs! sing ye praises;
By his death he overcame:
Thus the Lord his glory raises,
Thus he fills his foes with shame:
Sing ye praises!

Praises to the Victor's name.

3 Jesus triumphs! countless legions
Come from heaven to meet their King,
Soon, in yonder blessed regions,
They shall join his praise to sing:

Songs eternal

Shall through heaven's high arches ring.

THOMAS KELLY.

228 Christ, the Conqueror.
1 WELCOME, thou Victor in the strife,
Now welcome from the cave!
To-day we triumph in thy life
Around thine empty grave.

2 Our enemy is put to shame,
His short-lived triumph o'er;
Our God is with us, we exclaim,
We fear our foe no more.

3 0 let thy conquering banner wave
O'er hearts thou makest free,
And point the path that from the grave
Leads heavenward up to thee.

4 We bury all our sin and crime
Deep in our Saviour's tomb,

And seek the treasure there, that time Nor change can e'er consume.

5 We die with thee: O let us live
Henceforth to thee aright;

The blessings thou hast died to give
Be daily in our sight.

6 Fearless we lay us in the tomb,

And sleep the night away,

If thou art there to break the gloon,
And call us back to day.

BENJAMIN SCHMOLKE. TR. BY MISS C. WINK WOME