146

Godly sorrow at the cross.

C. M.

ALAS! and did my Saviour bleed?

And did my Sov'reign die?

Would he devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?

2 Was it for crimes that I have done,
He groan'd upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

3 Well might the sun in darkness hide, And shut his glories in,

When Christ, the mighty Maker, died,
For man, the creature's sin.

4 Thus might I hide my blushing face
While his dear cross appears;
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt mine eyes to tears.

5 But drops of grief can ne'er repay
The debt of love I owe:

Here, Lord, I give myself away,'Tis all that I can do.

147

Glory to the dying Lamb.

ALL to the iny praise,
LL glory to the dying Lamb,

C. M.

While angels live to know thy name, Or men to feel thy grace.

2 With this cold stony heart of mine, Jesus, to thee I flee;

And to thy grace my soul resign,
To be renew'd by thee.

30 may the uncorrupted seed
Abide and reign within;
And thy life-giving word forbid
My new-born soul to sin.

THE RESURRECTION AND ASCENSION OF

JESUS CHRIST.

148

L. M.

Dying, rising, reigning.

E dies! the Friend of sinners dies! Lo! Salem's daughters weep around; A solemn darkness veils the skies,

A sudden trembling shakes the ground: Come, saints, and drop a tear or two For him who groan'd beneath your load; He shed a thousand drops for you,A thousand drops of richer blood. 2 Here's love and grief beyond degree: The Lord of glory dies for man! But lo! what sudden joys we see: Jesus, the dead, revives again. The rising God forsakes the tomb; (In vain the tomb forbids his rise;) Cherubic legions guard him home,

And shout him welcome to the skies. 3 Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell How high your great Deliv'rer reigns; Sing how he spoil'd the hosts of hell,

And led the monster death in chains: Say, Live forever, wondrous King!

Born to redeem, and strong to save; Then ask the monster, Where's thy sting? And, Where's thy vict'ry, boasting grave?

149

Easter Sunday.

C. M.

THE Loncert with the blest,
HE Lord of Sabbath let us praise,

In

Who, joyful in harmonious .lays,
Employ an endless rest.

2 Thus, Lord, while we remember thee,
We blest and pious grow;

By hymns of praise we learn to be
Triumphant here below.

3 On this glad day a brighter scene
Of glory was display'd,

By the eternal Word, than when

This universe was made.

4 He rises, who mankind has bought, With grief and pain extreme:

'Twas great to speak the world from naught; "Twas greater to redeem.

150

THE

Paradise opened.

HE Sun of righteousness appears,
To set in blood no more;

Adore the Scatt'rer of your fears,—
Your rising Sun adore.

C. M.

2 The saints, when he resign'd his breath, Unclosed their sleeping eyes;

He breaks again the bands of death,-
Again the dead arise.

3 Alone the dreadful race he ran,—
Alone the wine-press trod;

He dies and suffers as a man,—

He rises as a God.

4 In vain the stone, the watch, the seal,

Forbid an early rise

To Him, who breaks the gates of hell,

And opens Paradise.

151

S. M.

Joy from the certainty of His resurrection

HE Lord is risen indeed;

TH

The grave hath lost its prey;

With him shall rise the ransom'd seed,

To reign in endless day.

2 The Lord is risen indeed;
He lives, to die no more;

He lives, his people's cause to plead,
Whose curse and shame he bore.

3 The Lord is risen indeed;
Attending angels, hear;

Up to the courts of heaven, with speed,
The joyful tidings bear:

4 Then take your golden lyres,
And strike each cheerful chord;
Join, all ye bright celestial choirs,
To sing our risen Lord.

152

5th P. M. 4 lines 7s.

If we suffer with Him we shall reign with Him.
Cons of men and angels say:
YHRIST, the Lord, is risen to-day,
Raise your joys and triumphs high;
Sing, ye heavens,—and earth, reply.
2 Love's redeeming work is done,-
Fought the fight, the battle won:
Lo! the sun's eclipse is o'er;
Lo! he sets in blood no more.

3 Vain the stone, the watch, the seal,-
Christ has burst the gates of hell:
Death in vain forbids his rise;
Christ hath open'd Paradise.

4 Lives again our glorious King;
Where, O death, is now thy sting?
Once he died our souls to save;
Where's thy vict'ry, boasting grave?

5 Soar we now where Christ has led,
Follow our exalted head;

Made like him, like him we rise;
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies.

153

33d P. M. 66, 66.

Christ, the first-fruits.

SIN

NING praise! the tomb is void
Where the Redeemer lay;
Sing of our bonds destroy'd,
Our darkness turn'd to day.
2 Weep for your dead no more;
Friends, be of joyful cheer;
Our Star moves on before,
Our narrow path shines clear.
3 He who, so patiently,

The crown of thorns did wear,-
He hath gone up on high;
Our hope is with him there.
4 Now is his truth reveal'd,
His majesty, and might;
The grave has been unseal'd;
Christ is our life and light.
5 He who for men did weep;

Suffer, and bleed, and die,-
First-fruits of them that sleep,-
Christ has gone up on high.
6 His vict'ry hath destroy'd
The shafts that once could slay:
Sing praise! the tomb is void
Where the Redeemer lay.

154

The King of glory.

L. M.

UR Lord is risen from the dead; Our Jesus is gone up on high; The powers of hell are captive led,— Dragg'd to the portals of the sky: There his triumphal chariot waits, And angels chant the solemn lay ;Lift up your heads, ye heavenly gates; Ye everlasting doors, give way!