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The bonds and scourges tearing, Which thou, my God, wast bearing, My soul, my soul deserv'd to feel.

6 I'll be with the beholders, And see thee on thy shoulders

Bear my prodigious load: Thou tak'st the curse-infliction, Giv'st for it benediction;

Thy death procures my peace with God.

7 As Surety thou presentest Thyself, to die consentest

For me in debt all o'er;

A crown of thorns thou wearest,
All scorn and pain thou bearest,
With patience never known before.
8 Into death's jaws thou leaping
Provid'st for my escaping,

Lest I its sting should prove;
My curse and condemnation
Thou bear'st, for my salvation :

O most unheard-of fire of love! 9 The highest obligations Bind me through all life's stations, T'express my thanks to thee; Weak as I am and feeble, As far as I am able,

I'll yield thee service willingly.

10 While here on earth I'm living, I nothing have worth giving

To thee for all thy pain; Yet shall thy passion ever, Till soul and body sever

3

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15 Thy sighs and groans unnumber'd,
And, from thy heart encumber'd,
The countless tears forth prest;
These shall at my dismission,
To final rest's fruition

Convoy me to thy arms and breast,

89.* T. 165.

Led,

THOUSAND times by me be greet-
Jesus, who hast loved me,
And thyself to death submitted
For my treasons against thee:
Ah! how happy do I feel,
When 'fore thee I humbly kneel
At the cross where thou expiredst,
And true life for me acquiredst.
2 Jesus, thee I view in spirit,

Cover'd o'er with blood and wounds; Now salvation, through thy merit,

For my sin-sick soul abounds. O who can, thou Prince of Peace, Who didst thirst for our release, Fully fathom all that's treasur'd

Deep in my heart engrav'd remain. In thy love's design unmeasur'd!

11 Its fresh representation
Shall raise my admiration,
Where'er I turn or move;

I'll take it for a mirror
Of innocence, for terror

To guilt, but seal of truth and love.

12 How greatly man incenses The Lord by his offences;

God's holiness how stern; How rig'rous he chastiseth, When he with wrath baptizeth; This from thy suff'rings will Ilearn. 13 From thence I'll be taught truly, How to be pure and holy, Resign'd, compos'd and still;

3 Heal me, O my soul's Physician, Wheresoe'er I'm sick or sad; All the woes of my condition

By thy balm be now allay'd: Heal the hurts which Adam wrought, Or which on myself I've brought; If thy blood me only cover, My distress will soon be over. 4 On my heart thy wounds for ever Be inscrib'd indelibly,

That I ne'er forget, dear Saviour,

What thou hast endur'd for me:
Thou'rt indeed my highest good,
End of all solicitude;
Let me, at thy feet abased,
Be to taste thy friendship raised.

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5 With the deepest adoration Humbly at thy feet I lie; And, with ardent supplication, Unto thee for succor cry; My petition kindly hear; Say, in answer to my pray'r: "I will change thy grief and sadness Into comfort, joy and gladness." 6 Jesus, at my dissolution

Take my longing soul to thee; Let thy wounds at the conclusion Of this life, my refuge be! When in death I close mine eyes, Let me wake in paradise, And in endless bliss and glory With the saints in heav'n adore thee.

90.* T. 168.

JESUS, Source of my salvation,
Conqu❜ror both of death and hell!
Thou who didst, as my oblation,

Feel what I deserv'd to feel:
Thro' thy suff'rings, death and merit,
I eternal life inherit;

Thousand, thousand thanks to thee,
Dearest Lord, for ever be!

2 O how basely wast thou used,

Buffeted and spit upon!
Scourg'd and torn, and sorely bruised,
Thou the heav'nly Father's Son:
Me, poor sinner, to deliver
From the devil's pow'r for ever!
Thousand, &c.

3 Lord, thy deep humiliation
Paid for my presumptuous pride;
I need fear no condemnation,

Since for sinners thou hast dy'd: Thou becam❜st a curse, dear Saviour, To restore me to God's favor. Thousand, &c.

4 Lord, I'll praise thee now and ever For thy bitter pain and smart,

For thy agonizing shiver,

For thy wounds and pierced heart; For thy stooping under sentence Of God's wrath and fiery vengeance: For thy death and love divine, Lord, I'll be for ever thine,

91.* T. 165.

CHRIST, thy wounds&bitter passion, Bloody sweat, cross, death, and tomb, Be my daily meditation,

Till I to thy presence come. When a sinful thought would start, Ready to seduce my heart, Thy sore pain effectually Me forbid with sin to dally. 2 Should my bosom with lewd passion Be inflam'd, and burn with sin, Let the thoughts of thine oblation

Quench that spreading fire within.
Would the tempter make his way
To my heart, Lord, grant I may
By thy wounds, thy pain and anguish,
All his vile intrusions vanquish.
3 Would the world with gay temptation
Draw me to its own broad way;
Let me think upon thy passion,

And the load which on thee lay:
Sure the sweat and precious blood
Can arm me, on each occasion,
Of the dying Lamb of God
To oppose th' infatuation.

4 Lord, in ev'ry sore oppression,
Let thy wounds be my relief;
When I seek thine intercession,
Add new strength to my belief.
Ah, the feeling of thy peace
Sets

my

my troubled heart at ease, And affords a demonstration Of thy love and salvation. 5 All my hope and consolation, Christ, is in thy bitter death; At the hour of expiration,

Lord, receive my dying breath, Most of all, when I go hence, Let this be confidence, my That thy deep humiliation Hath procured my salvation, 92.*

T. 126.

O Lord, when condemnation
And guilt afflict my soul,
Then let thy bitter passion

The rising storm control: Remind me, that thy sacred blood Hath cancell'd my transgressions By paying what I ow'd.

2 O wonder far exceeding

All human thought and sense!
Heav'n's Sov'reign was seen bleeding
To wipe off my offence:
The Prince of life gave up his breath
For me, whose vile rebellion
Deserv'd an endless death.

3 Though sins exceed a mountain,
Or sands on ocean's shore,
The everlasting fountain

Of Jesus' blood hath pow'r
To wash all sin and guilt away,

And save me from that terror Which held me in dismay.

4 My heart, while here 'tis moving, Shall beat with fervent praise To thee, who art so loving

To the lost human race:
Thy dying words and agony
Shall be my meditation,
Till I am call'd to thee.

5 Lord, let thy bitter passion
Dwell always in my mind,
To raise an indignation
'Gainst sin of ev'ry kind;
That henceforth I may ne'er forget
The greatness of that ransom,
Which paid my endless debt.
6 All pains and tribulations,
Contempt and worldly spite,
Help me to bear with patience;
And always fix my sight
On that unerring rule of faith,
Thy blessed steps to follow,
Until my latest breath.
7 O may my life and labor
Express what thou hast done,
By love towards my neighbor,
By serving ev'ry one
Without self-int'rest or disguise;
And may thy pure example
my best exercise!

Be

8 When I give up my spirit To thee my Judge and God, O then apply the merit

Of thy atoning blood; And let my faith its pow'r display, And rest upon thy promise To save me in that day.

93.*

T. 167.
O The love wherewith I'm loved,
O the undeserved grace;
Thou, O Love, by mercy moved,
Tak'st thee
upon
distress!
my
As a Lamb led to the slaughter
Goest to the cross's tree,
Seal'st thy love with blood and water,
Bear'st the world's iniquity.

2 Love, so strikingly displayed
In thy tears and bloody sweat:
Love, by sinful men betrayed,

Dragg'd before the judgment-seat: Love, who for my soul's salvation, Willingly didst shed thy blood, Through thy death and bitter passion I am reconcil'd to God.

3 Love, who as my bleeding Saviour Didst my heart in righteousness Unto thee betroth for ever,

Ah, I thank thee for thy grace: Love, who thus himself engaged, Let my mis'ry and my smart Now entirely be assuaged

In thy wounded bleeding heart. 4 Love, who hast for me endured Death upon the accursed tree, And eternal bliss procured,

Fill my soul with love to thee. Lord, how hast thou captivated

My else cold and lifeless heart! Let me till to heav'n translated Never more from thee depart. T. 216.

94.* A Lamb went forth, and bare the guilt Of all the world together, Most patiently his blood he spilt To pay for ev'ry debtor; He freely took sin's heavy load, To reconcile us unto God;

All comfort he refused: He underwent reproach and blame, Death on the cross, with stripes and And said, "I freely choose it."[shame, 2 This Lamb is God omnipotent, The sovereign Creator, The Son, who by the Father sent, Assum'd our feeble nature;

O love no human tongue can tell,
O love divine, unsearchable!
God gave his well-beloved
To sufferings, death, and to the grave,
That he lost man thereby might save;
His mercy thus he proved!

3 Jesus, I never can forget

The pangs thou hast sustained;
I'll thee, long as my pulse doth beat,
Adore with thanks unfeigned;
Yea, thou shalt be my heart's delight;
Thou, when I sink in death's dark night,
Shalt be my consolation;

In life and death I will be thine,
And on thy faithfulness recline
With humble resignation.
4 My song in thy great loveliness,
Both day and night shall center;
Amidst all wants and feebleness,
I'll on thy service venture:
My life's whole stream for thee shall 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!
5 Thou canst true comfort to me yield
In my life's ev'ry station;
In combat thou dost prove my shield,
In grief my exultation;
In happy hours, the source of joy;
And when all other meat doth cloy,
This manna shall support me;
In thirst thou shalt my well-spring be,
In solitude my company,

Thou on my head wilt place a crown,
Thus shall I stand before the throne
Of thy dear heav'nly Father,
Dress'd in salvation's robe, with thee
To live to all eternity,

In bliss no tongue can utter.
T. 152. or 9.

95.*
JESUS I am richly bless'd

By thy bitter passion;
O how is my soul refresh'd

In the meditation

On the pain and deep distress,

Which thou hast endured!
By thy death for me a place
Is in heav'n procured.

2 Jesus, who hast once been dead,
Now for ever livest;
Thou in ev'ry time of need

Kindly me relievest,
And dost help to me afford:

Faithful Lord and Saviour,
Give me what thy death procur'd,
And I'm rich for ever.

96.* T. 51.

WHEN Jesus hung upon the cross,
Expiring to retrieve our loss,
Bereft of consolation,

Sev'n dying words he spoke which claim

Our serious meditation.

2 First for his foes he intercedes,
And with his Father for them pleads,
(His matchless goodness showing);
Hesaith." Forgive them; they know not

What they to me are doing."
3 Weigh next the pardon and relief
Bestow'd on the repenting thief,
The object of his favor :
To day thou shalt in paradise
"Be with me, and for ever."
Observe the sympathy and care
Which he for John and Mary bare:
"Behold thy son, O mother;
O John, thy mother there behold."

At home and on a journey.
6 What harm can I from death sustain,
Since thou art my salvation?
From scorching heat thou art my screen,"
In pain my consolation; [breast,
When gloomy thoughts surround my
Thou, Lord, alone canst give me rest,
'Tis by thy pow'r I conquer:
Thou art, when storms of trials blow,
And toss my vessel to and fro,
My sure and stedfast anchor.

7 When I in heav'n shall rest with thee,
Thou God of my salvation,
Thy blood and righteousness shall be
My glorious decoration:

4

Thus, Christians, love each other.
5 Hark! how the meek&suff'ring Lamb
Doth on the cross," I thirst" exclaim;
Such thirst the Lord sustained
For our salvation: but now he
Joy for his grief hath gained.

6 Next take to heart his anguish great, When, press'd beneath sin's pond'rous weight,

All comfort from him taken, He cries aloud, "My God, my God, Why hast thou me forsaken ?"

7" 'Tis finish'd," was the solemn word,

When for mankind our dying Lord
Had gain'd complete salvation;
Ye mourning sinners, all rejoice
To hear this declaration.

8 The last, attention due demands:
“O Father, now into thy hands

I recommend my spirit !"
He bow'd his head, gave up the ghost,
That we might life inherit.

9 All those who here enjoy, by faith,
The blessed fruits of Jesus' death,
True bliss in him possessing,
Find in his seven dying words
A treasure of rich blessing.

97. T. 168.

O BEHOLD your Saviour wounded,
Hanging on th' accursed cross;
None hath e'er the love expounded,
Our Redeemer show'd to us:
Hear him at his crucifixion
Pray for foes 'midst keen affliction,
"O forgive them; they don't know,
Heav'nly Father, what they do."
2 At his cross's foot now tarry,
View his languid, marred face,
Mark his care for John and Mary;
To the thief he offers
grace.
Ah, he thirsts with love unshaken;
"God! why hast thou me forsaken ?"
And "'Tis finish'd!" Jesus cries,
Yields his spirit, droops and dies.
98.*
T. 168.
SINCE with awe in strains melodious,
Sing with awe: Behold the Man!
Yea repeat in tones harmonious,

Ah, Behold, behold the man!
On thy dying look, dear Saviour,
I will fix my eyes for ever;
I am never tir'd to gaze
At thy lovely bleeding face.

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

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

3 Wounded head, back plough'd with furrows,

Visage marr'd: 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 slaughter'dLamb.

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Then felt the pow'rs 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.

2 Thou, who the nail-prints dost retain, Tho' to thy glorious throne ascended, Whose side's incision doth remain, And thorn-marks which thy head once rended:

This is thy most transcendent form Which doth our hearts transport and warm, As thou the cross upon didst languish, Or, as thy body, pale and dead, Extended there in keenest anguish; In the cold sepulchre was laid.

3 'Tis the most lovely attitude

Wherein we can behold our Saviour, When by the eye of faith he's view'd, With blood and bruises stain'd all

over.

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