The precious blood of Christ.
LORY be to Jesus,
GL Who in bitter pains
Poured for me the life-blood
From His sacred veins.
Grace and life eternal
In that blood I find;
Blest be His compassion,
Infinitely kind.
Blest, through endless ages,
Be the precious stream,
Which from endless torments
Did the world redeem.
Abel's blood for vengeance
Pleaded to the skies,
But the blood of Jesus
For our pardon cries.
Oft as it is sprinkled
On our guilty hearts,
Satan in confusion,
Terror-struck, departs.
Oft as earth, exulting,
Wafts its praise on high,
Angel-hosts, rejoicing,
Make their glad reply.
Lift ye, then, your voices,
Swell the mighty flood;
Louder still and louder
Praise the precious Blood.
Planted together in the likeness of His
death.
O to dark Gethsemane,
Ye that feel the tempter's power,
Your Redeemer's conflict see.
Watch with Him one bitter hour,
Turn not from His griefs away;
Learn of Him to watch and pray.
See Him at the judgment-hall,
Beaten, bound, reviled, arraigned!
See Him meekly bearing all!
Love to man his soul sustained.
Shun not suffering, shame, or loss;
Learn of Christ to bear the cross.
Calvary's mournful mountain view,
There the Lord of Glory see,
Made a sacrifice for you,
Dying on the accursed tree!
"It is finished!" hear Him cry ;
Learn of Jesus Christ to die.
HARK! the voice of love and mercy
Sounds aloud from Calvary!
See, it rends the rocks asunder,
Shakes the earth, and veils the sky;
"It is finished!"
Hear the dying Saviour's cry!
"It is finished!" O what triumph Do these joyful words afford! Heavenly blessings without measure Flow to us from Christ the Lord. "It is finished!"
Saints His dying words record.
Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs,
Strike them to Immanuel's name!
All on earth, and all in heaven,
Join the triumph, to proclaim
"It is finished!"
Glory to the bleeding Lamb!
COME and mourn with me awhile,
O come ye to the Saviour's side,
O come, together let us mourn,
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
Have we no tears to shed for Him,
While soldiers scoff and Jews deride?
Ah, look how patiently He hangs!
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
How fast His hands and feet are nailed,
His throat with parching thirst is dried,
His failing eyes are dimmed with blood;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
Seven times He spake, seven words of love,
And all three hours His silence cried
For mercy on the souls of men ;
Jesus, our Lord, is crucified.
A broken heart, a fount of tears,
Ask, and they will not be denied;
Lord Jesus, may we love and weep,
Since Thou for us art crucified?
50 Who loved me, and gave Himself for me.
SACRED Head, surrounded
By crown of piercing thorn!
O bleeding Head, so wounded,
Reviled, and put to scorn!
Death's pallid hue comes o'er Thee,
The glow of life decays,
Yet angel hosts adore Thee,
And tremble as they gaze.
I see Thy strength and vigour,
All fading in the strife,
And death, with cruel rigour,
Bereaving Thee of life;
O agony and dying!
O love to sinners free!
Jesu, all grace supplying,
O turn Thy face on me!
In this, Thy bitter passion,
Good Shepherd, think of me,
With Thy most sweet compassion,
Unworthy though I be:
Beneath Thy cross abiding,
For ever would I rest,
In Thy dear love confiding,
And with thy presence blest.
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