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43 FROM lowest depths of woe
- To God I send my cry;
And graciously reply.
For Thee, the living Lord;
Thy never failing word.
For Thy enliv'ning ray,
To catch the dawn of day. 4 Let Israel trust in God,
No bounds his mercy knows;
Eternal succour flows.
44 M Y soul lies cleaving to the dust :
V Lord, give me life divine :
Turn off these eyes of mine!
To speed me in Thy way,
Or turn my feet astray.
And Thou a faithful God?
To run the heavenly road?
4 Then shall I love Thy Gospel more,
And ne'er forget Thy word,
To draw me near the Lord.
45 W HEN all around is dark and drear,
" No hand to help, no voice to cheer; When, of each human stay bereft,
Alone my trembling soul is left ; 2 Whither, ah, whither shall I flee,
Saviour of sinners, but to Thee?
By suff'rings taught to sympathize. 3 O break the power of sin and hell,
The stern rebuke of conscience quell,
Serenely beams the Gospel morn,
Purge my sins of deepest dye:
47 STRICKEN, smitten, and afflicted,
w See Him dying on the tree;
Yes, my soul, 'tis He ! 'tis He ! 2 Come, my soul, look here, and wonder:
Here's a sight to cause surprise ;
Well may darkness veil the skies : 3 Jesus died in love to others :
Greater love has none than this:
Feeble are compar'd with his.
Here, the refuge for the lost;
His own blood the price it cost.
48 YES, we will mourn : for us he died :
Jesus for us was crucified :
For us, eternal life procur'd.
What tongue, or pen, can fully show,
NOT all the blood of beasts,
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 burden Thou didst bear,
And hopes her guilt was there.
To see the curse remove;
And sing his bleeding love.
50 M AY I love Thee and adore Thee,
O Thou bleeding, dying Lamb: Teach my heart to bend before Thee,
Kindle there a sacred flame.
How to lift my thoughts on high :
VHEN I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died, My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride. 2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ, my God;
3 See from his head, his hands, his feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down !
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
That were a present far too small;
52 HÅRK! the voice of love and mercy
Sounds aloud from Calvary;
" It is finish’d,"
Hear the dying Saviour cry!
Do these joyful words afford !
" It is finish'd!”