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R. M.

What glad return can I impart

For favours so divine ?
O take my all-this worthless heart,
And make it wholly thine.

GO 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 from him to watch and

See him at the judgment hall,

Beaten, bound, revil'd, arraign'd:
See bim meekly bearing all;

Love to man his soul sustain'd.
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 th' accursed tree: “ It is finish’d,” hear him cry: Trust in Christ, and learn to die. Early to the tomb repair,

Where they laid his breathless clay; Angels kept iheir vigils there:

Who hath taken him away? “ Christ is ris'n !” he seeks the skies ; Saviour ! teach us so to rise.

HARK! the voice of love and mercy,

Sounds aloud from Calvary;
See, the rocks are rent asunder;
Darkness veils the mid-day sky;

“ It is finish'd!”
Hear the dying Saviour cry.


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O what joy to helpless sinners,

These triumphant words afford ! Heavenly blessings, without measure, Flow to us through Christ the Lord.

“ It is finish'd !"
Saints, his dying words record.
Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs !

Strike them to Emmanuel's name;
All on earth, and all in heaven,
Join the triumph to proclaim-

" It is finish'd !" Glory to the bleeding Lamb.


8. JESUS! refuge of my soul,

Let me to thy bosom fly, While the raging billows roll,

While the tempest still is high! Hide me, O my Saviour! bide,

Till the storm of life is past : Safe into the haven guide;

O receive my soul at last.
Thou, O Christ, art all I want;

All in all, in thee I find :
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,

Heal the sick, and lead the blind.
Just and holy is thy name,

I am all unrighteousness;
Vile and full of sin I am,

Thou art full of truth and grace.
All my trust on thee is stay'd,

All my help from thee I bring;
Cover my defenceless head

With the shadow of thy wing.
Plenteous grace with thee is found,

Grace to pardon all my sin ;
Let the healing streams abound,

Make and keep me pure within.




LORD, at thy table I behold

The wonders of thy grace,
But most of all admire that I

Should find a welcome place.
What strange surprising grace is this,

That one so lost has room !
Jesus my weary soul invites,

And freely bids me come.
Ye saints below, and hosts of heav'n,

Join all your praising powers ;
No theme is like redeeming love,

No Saviour is like our's.


C. M, This do, in remembrance of me. Luke xxii, 19. ACCORDING to thy gracious word,

In meek humility,
This will I do, my dying Lord;

I will remember thee.
Thy body broken for my sake,

My bread from heaven shall be;
Thy testamental cup I take,

And thus remember thee. Can I Gethsemane forget?

Or there they conflict see, Thine agony and bloody sweat,

And not remember thee?

When to the cross I turn mine eyes,

And rest on Calvary,
O Lamb of God, my sacrifice!

I must remember thee.
Remember thee, and all thy pains,

And all thy love to me!
Yes! while a pulse or breath remains

Will I remember thee.
And when these failing lips grow dumb,

And thought and memory flee;
When thou shalt in thy kingdom come,

Jesus! remember me.

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COMMUNION of my Saviour's blood,

In him to have my lot and part; To prove the virtue of that flood,

Which burst on Calvary from his heart: To feed by faith on Christ my bread,

His body broken on the tree ; To live in Him, my living Head,

Who died and rose again for me: Be this my joy and comfort here;

This pledge of future glory mine! Jesus! in Spirit now appear,

And break the bread, and pour the wine. From thy dear hand may I receive

The tokens of thy dying love ; And while I feast on earth, believe

That I shall feast with thee above. Ah! then, though in the lowest place,

Thee at thy table could I meet, And see thee, know thee face to face,

For such a moment death were sweet!

What, then, will their fruition be

Who meet in heaven with one accord ? A moment ?-No:-eternity!

They are for ever with the Lord.

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WHEN 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. Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

Save in the cross of Christ my God;
All the vain things that charm me inost,

I sacrifice them to bis blood.
See from his head, his hands, his feet,

Sorrow and love flow mingled down :
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,

Or thorns compose so rich a crown? Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small: Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

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SWEET the moments, rich in blessing,

Which before the cross I spend : Life, and health, and peace possessing

From the singer's dying friend. Jesus sought me, when a stranger,

Wand'ring from the fold of God; He, to rescue me from danger,

Interpos'd his precious blood. Here I'll sit, for ever viewing

Mercy's streams in streams of blood : Precious drops, my soul bedewing,

Plead and claim my peace with God.

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