SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST.

80. His Cries and Deliverance. I am deep in waters, the floods overflow me."

Psa. 69. (C. M.)
1 NOW let our lips with holy fear

And mournful pleasure sing,
The sufferings of our great high priest,

The sorrows of our king.
2 "Save mo, O God, the swelling floods

Break in upon my soul,
I sink, and sorrows o'er my head,

Like mighty waters roll.”
3 He saved me from the dreadful deep,

Nor let my soul be drown'd,
He rais'd and fix'd my sinking feet,

On well establish'd ground. 4 'Twas in a most accepted hour,

My prayer arose on high,
And for my sake my God shall hear
The dying sinners cry.

WATTS.
81.

Gethsemane.
“ A place named Gethsemane."

Mark 14. (P. M.)
1 SAILORS, mark the dreadful night,

Vengeance with its iron rod,
Stood, and with collected might,

Bruis'd the harmless Lamb of God.
See my soul, thy Saviour see,
Grov'ling in Gethsemane.

!

2 There my God bore all my guilt,

This thro' grace can be believ'd, But the sorrows which he felt,

Are too vast to be conceived. None can penetrate thro' thee,

Doleful, dark, Gethsemane. 3 Here's my claim, and here alone,

None a Saviour more can need,
Deeds of righteousness I've none,

No, not one good work to plead.
Not a glimpse of hope for me,
Only in Gethsemane.

HART'S COLLECTION.

82.

His Companions in the Garden.
“ Peter and the two sons of Zebedee."

Matt. 26. (C. M.)
1 WHO were the highly honor'd thrée,

Selected by the Lord,
To enter sad Gethsemane,

When vengeance drew its sword.
2 O) grace how rich ! how free! that choso,

Šeamen of Galilee,
When Jesus sunk beneath our woes,

In blood stained agony.
3 May sailors for this haven steer,

And see their Jesus there,
Behold his bloody sweat, and hear

His agonizing prayer.
& Be then this port my chief delight,

"Till moor'd in heaven above, Weeping I'll gaze upon the sight,

And be dissolv'd in love.

83.
Strengthened by an Angelo
“ There appeared an angel unto him."-

Luke 92. (P. M.)
I SEE his disciples slumb'ring round,
Nor pitying friend on earth is found,

He treads the press alone;
In vain to heaven he turns his eyes,
The curse awaits him from the skies,

His death it must atone.
2 His earnest prayers, his deep'ning groans,
Were heard before angelic thrones,

Amazement wrapt the sky,
Go strengthen Christ! the Father said,
The astonished seraph bow'd his head,

And left the realms on high.
Made strong in strength renew'd from heaven,
Jesus revives, the cup was given,

And perfectly resign'd;
He drinks the wormwood mixt with gall,
Sustains the curse, removes it all,
Nor leaves a dreg behind.

RipronS. 84.

1

Mis Agony.

" Being in an agony he prayed.” -

Luke 22. (C. M.)
1 BEHOLD him in his bloody sweat,

And see bim on the tree,
Oh could I but indulge a hupe,

That there he died for me.
9 Those hands stretch'd out upon the tree,

Are now with blessings fill'd;
That mournful seed, time shall at last,
A joyful harvest yield.

BEDDOME.

85.

His Scousging.
« Pilate took Jesus and scourged him.".

John 19. (L. M.)
10 TĦOU, dear suffering Son of God,
*: How dóth thy heart to sinners move,
Help me to catch thy precious blood,

Help me to taste thy dying love.
2 See! how his back the scourges tear,

While to the bloody pillar bound,
The ploughers make long furrows there,

Till all his body is one wound.
Ye that pass by, behold the man!

The man of griefs condemned for you, The Lamb of God for sinners slain, Weeping to Calvary pursue.

WESLE

86.

His Tortures.' " Him have ye slain."-Acts 2. (C. M.) 10 THE sharp pangs of smarting pain,

Our dear Redeemer bore,
When knotty whips, and ragged thorns,

His sacred body tore.
2 'Twere you, our sins, our cruel sins,

His chief tormentors were, Each of our crimes became a nail,

And unbelief the spear. 3 Strike, mighty grace, each flinty soul,

'Till melting waters flow, And deep repentance dro our eyes, In undissembled woe.

WATTE

HIS CROSS.

87. | Meditation at Sea. , “ He hath borne our griefs and carried cur

sorrows.-Isu. 53. (L. M.) I WHEN from the bosom of the deep,

My thoughts o'er Jesu's sorrows rove, I view the blood-stained cross and weep,

Till all my soul's dissolv’d in love. 2 What tho' rude storms hare rent our bark,

And billows after billows roll’d, No waves e'er dash'd across the Ark,

Were half so vast-so wild-80 bold. $ I hear my Jesu's sinking cry,

“ Lord save, O save, thy Son implores," I see his dreadful agony,

While heaven its mighty vengeance pours. 4 The storm is o'er, the tempest dies,

Eternal calms shall now prevail, To Heaven I see my Saviour rise, And spread for Heaven my soul's best sail.

2.

88. Faith Working by Lore. “ He hath poured out his soul unto death."

Isa. 53. (C. M.) 1 WAS it for crimes that I have done,

He groan'd upon the tree? Amazing pity! grace unknown,

And love beyond degree!