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173. L. M.
How, as the fatal hour drew near,
The images of grief and fear!
As the dark vision o'er it came,
Turn shuddering from the death of shame? 3 Onward like thee, through scorn and dread,
May we our Father's call obey;
1 Ride on! ride on in majesty !
Hark! all the tribes Hosanna cry!
With palms and scattered garments strowed. 2 Ride on! ride on in majesty!
In lowly pomp ride on to die!
O’er captive death and conquered sin. 3 Ride on! ride on in majesty!
The winged squadrons of the sky
4 Ride on! ride on in majesty!
Thy last and fiercest strife is nigh :
1 O here, if ever, God of love!
Let strife and hatred cease;
And every thought be peace.
Whose latest thoughts were ours,
Thy life of love hath been;
Though thou no more art seen. 4 Thy kingdom come:" we watch, we wait
To hear thy cheering call;
And God be all in all.
176. C. M.
In meek humility,
I will remember thee.
2 Thy body, broken for my sake,
My bread from heaven shall be; Thy testamental cup I take,
And thus remember thee.
3 Gethsemane can I forget ?
Or there thy conflict see,
And not remember thee?
4 When to the cross I turn mine eyes,
And rest on Calvary,
I must remember thee:
5 Remember thee, and all thy pains,
And all thy love to me;
Will I remember thee. 6 And when these failing lips grow dumb,
And mind and memory flee,
Jesus, remember me.
1 “O not for these alone I pray!”
The dying Saviour said;
The loved disciple's head.
2 Though to his eye that moment sprung
The kind, the pitying tear
His words of love to hear.
For all of mortal race,
Where'er their dwelling place. 4 Sweet is the thought, when here we meet,
His feast of love to share;
The memory of his prayer.
178. P. M.
Wine of the soul, in mercy shed !
Through whom the soul to sin grows dead! 2 Look on the heart by sorrow broken,
Look on the tears by sinners shed,
179. C. M.
Who round his table draw,
What his peculiar law.
2 The love which all his bosom filled
Did all his actions guide;
Inspired by love, he died.
Like his be every mind;
And every action kind. 4 Let none who call themselves his friends
Disgrace the honoured name,
The title which they claim.
1 The Son of God gave thanks
Before the bread he broke:
Among the words he spoke !
Thanks, in that dismal hour:
In all his rage and power. 3 Thanks, o'er that bread's dread sign :
Thanks, o'er that bitter food :
But sorrow, fear, and blood.