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Jesus, at Thy feet I fall,
F. R. Havergal. 277
All, all is finished now,
To do for us below.
2 No work is left undone
Of all the Father willed ;
The Scripture have fulfilled. 3 No pain that we can share
But He has felt its smart;
Have pierced that tender heart. 4 And on His thorn-crowned head,
And on His sinless. soul,
That He might make us whole. 5 In perfect love He dies,
For me He dies, for me :
I cling by faith to Thee.
Before the judgment-throne,
Thy merits, not my own.
As Thou for me hast wrought,
H. W. Baker.
Our weary souls repair ;
2 Sweet resting-place of every heart
That feels the plague of sin,
The peace of God within.
Thy suffering spirit passed; Grace there its wondrous victory gained,
And love endured its last. 4 Dear suffering Lamb, Thy bleeding wounds,
With cords of love divine
And linked our life with Thine.
Dear Lord, we wait to see Creation, all below, above,
Redeemed and blest by Thee. 6 Our longing eyes would fain behold
That bright and blessèd brow, Once wrung with bitterest anguish, wear Its crown of glory now.
88, 7s. SWEET the moments, rich in blessing,
Which before the cross I spend,
From the sinner's dying friend.
2 Here I rest, for ever viewing
Mercy's stream in streams of blood ; Precious drops, my soul bedewing,
Plead and claim my peace with God. 3 Truly blessèd is this station,
Low before His Cross to lie,
Pleading in His languid eye. 4 Here it is I find my heaven,
While upon the Lamb I gaze ;
I'm a miracle of grace,
Fix my heart and eyes on Thee,
W. Shirley. Verse 5, Cook and Webb. 280
C. M. ( Thou, th' eternal Son of God,
The Lamb for sinners slain,
In agony and pain. 2 None tread with Thee Thine awful path,
Thou sufferest alone ;
Which only can atone. 3 Thou Great High Priest, Thy glory-robes
To-day are laid aside,
Thy Godhead seem to hide.
This is the lightest part ;
And breaks Thy sacred heart.
5 Who love Thee most, at Thy dear cross,
Will truest, Lord, abide ;
O Jesus crucified !
W. C. Dix.
SEE the destined day arise !
Hangs upon the shameful cross.
Lifted on that tree of scorn,
Finishing Thy life of woe?
Steeped in gall the cup of pain,
Thorns, and nails, and piercing spear? 4 Thence the cleansing water flowed,
Mingled from Thy side with blood,
Of the finished sacrifice.
In that sacrifice to place
V. H. C. Fortunatus. Par. R. Mant. 282
7s.61. EVER patient, gentle, meek,
Holy Saviour, was Thy mind;
Likeness to my Lord to find ;
2 Days of toil, 'mid throngs of men,
Vexed not, ruffled not Thy soul ;
Thou each feeling couldst control :
3 Though such griefs were Thine to bear,
For each sufferer Thou couldst feel,
Every wounded spirit heal :
4 When my pain is most intense,
Let Thy cross my lesson prove;
Breathing words of peace and love :
JESUS, meek and lowly,
Hear me humbly crying.
My salvation's tower,
Calling sinners to Thee.
At the sight amazing ;