HYMN 16. c. M.
The humble lamentation of a sinner.
1 O LORD, turn not thy face from me,
Who lie in woeful state,
Lamenting all my sinful life,
Before thy mercy-gate:
A gate, which opens wide to those
That do lament their sin:
Shut not the gate against me, Lord,
But let me enter in.
And call me not to strict account
How I have sojourn'd here!
For then my guilty conscience knows
How vile I shall appear.
Therefore with tears I come to beg
Of my offended God,
For pardon, like a child that dreads
His parent's chastening rod.
Mercy, good Lord, mercy I ask;
This is the total sum:
For mercy, Lord, is all my suit;
O let thy mercy come!
HYMN 17. L. M.
Compassion for the impenitent.
ARISE, my tenderest thoughts, arise;
To torrents melt my streaming eyes;
And thou, my heart, with anguish feel
Those evils which thou canst not heal.
See human nature sunk in shame!
See scandals pour'd on Jesu's name
The Father wounded through the Son,
The world abus'd, the soul undone !
See the short course of vain delight
Closing in everlasting night!
In flames that no abatement know,
Though briny tears for ever flow.
My God, I feel the mournful scene;
My spirit yearns o'er dying men:
And fain my pity would reclaim,
And snatch the firebrands from the flame.
But feeble my compassion proves,
And can but weep where most it loves;
Thine own all-saving arm employ,
And turn these tears of grief to joy.
1 O THOU, whose tender mercy hears Contrition's humble sigh,
Whose hand indulgent wipes the tears
From sorrow's weeping eye;
See low before thy throne of grace
A wretched wanderer mourn;
Hast thou not bid me seek thy face?
Hast thou not said "Return?"
And shall my guilty fears prevail
To drive me from thy feet?
O let not this last refuge fail,
This only safe retreat!
Absent from thee, my guide, my light;
Without one cheering ray;
Through dangers, fears, and gloomy night,
How desolate my way!
Oh shine on this benighted heart,
With beams of mercy shine;
And let thy healing voice impart
A taste of joys divine!
GOOD-FRIDAY.
HYMN 19. c. M.
The crucifixion.
BEHOLD the Saviour of mankind,
Nail'd to the shameful tree!
How vast the love that him inclin'd
To bleed and die for thec.
Hark how he groans! while nature shakes,
And earth's strong pillars bend!
The temple's veil in sunder breaks,
The solid marbles rend.
""Tis done! the precious ransom's paid,
"Receive my soul," he cries;
See where he bows his sacred head!
He bows his head-and dies.
But soon he'll break death's envious chain,
And in full glory shine:
O Lamb of God, was ever pain,
Was ever love like thine?
HYMN 20. L. M.
Nature moved at the death of Christ.
YE that pass by, behold the man,
The man of grief condemn'd for you!
The Lamb of God for sinners slain
Weeping to Calvary pursue.
See there his temples crown'd with thorns,
His bleeding hands extended wide,
His streaming fect transfix'd and torn,
The fountain gushing from his side.
Ador'd, yet suffering Son of God,
How doth thy heart to sinners move!
Sprinkle on us thy precious blood,
And melt us with thy dying love.
The earth could to her centre quake,
Convuls'd, when her Creator died;
O may our inmost nature shake,
And bow with Jesus crucified!
At thy last gasp, the graves display'd
Their horrors to the upper skies;
O that our souls might burst the shade,
And, quicken'd by thy death, arise!
The rocks could feel thy powerful death,
And tremble and asunder part;
O rend, with thy expiring breath
The harder marble of our heart!
HYMN 21. 8.7.4.
"It is finished."
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 finish'd!"
Hear the dying Saviour cry!
"It is finish'd!" O what pleasure
Do these charming words afford!
Heavenly blessings, without measure,
Flow to us from Christ the Lord:
"It is finish'd!"
Saints, the dying words record.
Finish'd all the types and shadows
Of the ceremonial law!
Finish'd all that God had promis'd;
Death and hell no more shall awe:
Saints, from hence your comfort draw.
Tune your hearts anew, ye seraphs;
Join to sing the pleasing theme:
All on earth, and all in heaven,
Join to praise Immanuel's name :
Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding Lamb!
HYMN 22. c. M.
Godly sorrow in the contemplation of a crucified Saviour.
ALAS! and did my Saviour bleed?
And did my Sovereign die?
Would he devote his sacred head
For such a worm as I?
Was it for crimes which I have done
He groan'd upon the tree?
Amazing pity, grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!
Well might the sun in darkness hide,
And shut his glories in,
When Christ the mighty Maker died
For man the creature's sin.
Thus should I hide my blushing face,
When his dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt my eyes to tears.
But floods of grief could ne'er repay
The debt of love I owe :
Here, Lord, I give myself away;
'Tis all that I can do.
HYMN 23. L. M.
The cross of Christ a motive to self-dedication.
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.
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