4 My song in thy great loveliness
Both day and night shall centre;
Amidst all wants and feebleness

I'll on thy service venture:

My life's whole stream for thee shali flow;
O may, by all I speak or do,

Thy holy name be praised,

And all that thou hast done for me,
Upon my heart indelibly

For ever be impressed.

G5 What harm can I from death sustain,
Since thou art my salvation;

From heat my shade, my ease in pain,
In grief my consolation; [breast,

When gloomy thoughts surround my
Thou, Lord, alone canst give me rest;

'Tis by thy power I conquer:

Thou art, when storms of trial blow,
And toss my vessel to and fro,
My sure and steadfast anchor.

ins, Habukom t.

3 Grant, O Christ, my God and Lord,
Through thy bitter passion,
That I may, as thy reward,
Joy in thy salvation:
May I ever weigh the cause

Of thy death and suffering,
And a poor, but contrite, heart
Bring as a thank-offering.

Paul Stockman and Michael Weiss.

2 Oh, this makes me think with sighing,
I'm the cause: Behold the man!
But his love, which I'm enjoying,

Comforts me: Behold the man!
Ah, that cruelly abused
Countenance, so marred and bruised,
Makes my eyes with tears o'erflow,
Till to him I've leave to go.

3 Wounded head, back ploughed with furrows,

Visage marred: Behold the man! Eyes how dim, how full of sorrows,

Sunk with grief: Behold the man!
Lamb of God, led to the slaughter,
Melted, poured out like water;

Should not love my heart inflame,
Viewing thee, thou slaughtered Lamb.
Chr. Gregor and Chr. I. La Trobe.

'TIS the most lovely attitude,

Endearing Christ beyond expression, When by the eye of faith he's viewed,

The sacrifice for our transgression;
That love, which urged our Lord and Head
To suffer freely in our stead,
Sinks deep into our hearts' recesses:
The blessed fruits of his distresses

We richly can enjoy by faith,
While meditating on his death.

2 When thou in death didst bow thy
head,
[wonder;

All nature, Lord, was struck with The opening graves gave up their dead, Earth trembled, rocks were rent in sunder:

Then felt the powers of hell below
Their last irrevocable blow;
Thy aim was then by right obtained,
To free the souls by Satan chained;

Now, thro' thy anguish and distress,
The captives find a full release.

3 Thou, who as our High-priest above Still as the Lamb once slain appearest, And there the tokens of thy love

In thy once wounded body bearest : This is thy most transcendent form, Which doth our hearts transport and warm,

is thou upon the cross didst languish,
Extended there in keenest anguish,
Or, as thy body, pale and dead,
In the cold sepulchre was laid.

ONE view, Lord Jesus, of thy passion
Will make the fainting spirit glad;
This yields us solid consolation,

When thy dear blood, so freely shed,
Pervades and heals both soul and body;
When thou dost give to us thy peace;
Ah, then our arms of faith are ready
Thy cross, O Jesus, to embrace.

2 No drop of blood thou deem'dst too precious,

To shed for sinners vile like me; O that thy fire of love, dear Jesus,

Inflamed my heart with love to thee; May thy atoning death and passion, Thy agony and bitter pain, Until my final consummation,

Deep in my heart engraved remain. 3 O might I live in the enjoyment

Of all my Lord for me hath gained; Might this be daily my employment, To muse on what his soul sustained: O may his hands, whereon engraven My poor and worthless name doth stand, Support me, till I in the haven

Of endless joy shall safely land.

4 Beholding with deep reverence Thy side for me then pierced, With what emotion had I thence

Seen blood and water burst.

5 It is as though my eyes now viewed
This heart-affecting sight,
And every scene depicted stood
'Fore me in clearest light.

6 O might thy dying love divine
Become to me more clear,
And smile in every smile of mine,
And flow in every tear.

7 When I depart, my latest breath
To thee, Lord, shall ascend
As a thank-offering for thy death;
Thus, blest my race will end.

Chr. R. von Zinzendorf, 1727-52.

SEE, world, upon the shameful tree
Thy Maker sinks in death:

Covered with stripes and wounds for thee,
The Saviour yields his breath.

2 Behold the streams of sacred blood,
From hands, and feet, and side;
What hath drawn forth this copious flool,
And swelled this flowing tide?

3 My sins as numerous as the sands
Upon the ocean's shore,

Have been the cruel, murderous hands, That wounded thee so sore.

4 My debt to thee, God, who art love,
Weak words can ne'er express;

I cannot here, if there above,
Return due thankfulness.

5 Grant me the grace, while I am here, Since I can nothing give,

Thy sufferings in my heart to bear,
And by thy death to live.

BEHOLD the Saviour of mankind
Nailed to the shameful tree;
How vast the love that him inclined
To bleed and die for thee.

2 Hark how he groans, while nature shakes,

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; Behold, he bows his sacred head, He bows his head, and dies.

4 But soon he'll break death's cruel
And in full glory shine;

O Lamb of God, was ever pain,
Was ever love like thine.

[chain,

THE cross, the cross, O that's my gain,
Because on that the Lamb was slain;
'Twas there my Lord was crucified,
'Twas there my Saviour for me died.
2 The stony heart dissolves in tears
When to our view the cross appears;
Christ's dying love, when truly felt,
The vilest, hardest heart doth melt.
3 Here will I stay, and gaze awhile
Upon the friend of sinners vile;
Abased I view what I have done
To God's eternal, gracious Son.
4 Here I behold, as in a glass,
God's glory, with unveiled face;
And by beholding, I shall be
Made like to him who loved me.

5 Here is an ensign on a hill,
Come hither, sinners, look your fill;
To look aside is pain and loss;
I glory only in the cross,

O 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 incarnate 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, see, ye worms, your Maker 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 all give up our hearts to him. O may we nothing know beside The Lamb of God, as crucified.