One drop of this can truly cheer,
And heal the wounded soul;
What multitude of broken hearts
This living stream makes whole!!
Hark, O my soul! what sing the choirs
Around the glorious throne?
Hark! the slain Lamb for evermore
Sounds in the sweetest tone!
The elders there cast down their crowns, And all both night and day
Sing praise to him who shed his blood, And wash'd their guilt away.
And this, while here, we will proclaim, Cheerful in our degree,
That thro' the blood of God's dear Lamb
Each soul may happy be.
But thou, O Lord! make ev'ry day
Thy grace to us more sweet;
'Till we behold thy wounded side,
And worship at thy feet.
That dear blood, for sinners spilt,
Shews my sin in all its guilt:
Ah! my soul, he bore thy load;
Thou hast slain the Lamb of God.
Hark! his dying word, Forgive,
• Father, let the sinner live;
Sinner, wipe thy tears away,
• I thy ransom freely pay.'
While I hear this grace reveal'd,
And obtain a párdon seal'd,
All my soft affections move,
Waken'd by the force of love.
Farewel, world, thy gold is dross,
Now I see the bleeding cross;
Jesus dy'd to set me free
From the law, and sin, and thee!
He has dearly bought my soul;
Lord, accept and claim the whole!
To thy will I all resign,
Now no more my own, but thine.
65. Christ our Sacrifice.
Not all the blood of beasts
On Jewish altars slain,
Could give the guilty conscience peace,
Or wash away the stain.
But Christ the heav'nly Lamb,
Takes all our sins away;
A sacrifice of nobler name,
And richer blood than they.
My faith would lay her hand
On that dear head of thine,
While like a penitent I stand,
And there confess my sin.
My soul looks back to see
The burdens thou didst bear
When hanging on the accursed tree,
And hopes her guilt was there.
Believing we rejoice
To see the curse remove;
We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice, And sing his bleeding love.
66. Invitation to the Lord's Table.
THIS is the feast of heav'nly wine,
And God invites to sup;
The juices of the living vine
Were press'd to fill the cup.
Oh bless the Saviour, ye that eat,
With royal dainties fed;
Not heav'n affords a costlier treat
For Jesus is the bread.
The vile, the lost, he calls to them,
Ye trembling souls appear!
The righteous in their own esteem
Have no acceptance here.
Approach, ye poor, nor dare refuse
The banquet spread for you;
Dear Saviour, this is welcome news,
Then I may venture too.
If guilt and sin afford a plea,
And may obtain a place,
Surely the Lord will welcome me,
And I shall see his face.
The Death of Christ.
THAT doleful night before his death
The Lamb for sinners slain,
Did almost with his latest breath
This solemn feast ordain.
To keep thy feast, Lord, are we met,
And to remember thee:
Help each poor trembler to repeat,
For me he died, for me.
Thy suff'rings Lord, each sacred sign
To our remembrance brings;
We eat the bread, and drink the wine,
But think on nobler things.
O tune our tongues and set in frame
Each heart that pants to thee,
To sing Hosanna to the Lamb,
• The Lamb that died for me.' Hallelujah.
68. Christ's Sufferings.
THROUGHOUT the Saviour's life we trace
Nothing but shame and deep disgrace,
No period else is seen:
'Till he a spotless victim fell,
Tasting in soul a painful hell,
Caus'd by the creatures' sin.
On the cold ground methinks I see
My Jesus kneel, and pray for me;
For this I him adore:
Seiz'd with a chilly sweat throughout,
Blood drops did force their passage out,
Thro' ev'ry open'd pore.
A pricking thorn his temples bore,
His back with lashes all was tore,
Till one the bones might see;
Mocking, they push d him here and there,
Marking his way with blood and tear,
Press'd by the heavy tree.
Thus up the hill he painful came,
Round him they mock, and make their game;
At length his cross they rear:
And can you see the mighty God
Cry out beneath sin's heavy load,
Without one thankful tear?
Thus veiled in humanity,
He dies in anguish on the tree;
What tongue his griefs can tell?
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