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3 From heaven he sent his only Son
To ransom us with blood,
When on its brink we stood.
By a delightful way,
Doth round our path display.
And to exalt such grace,
Ere yet we reach the place.
On thy wondrous love to me;
Slighted, disregarded thee!
Pleas'd with what displeased thee:
Wounded, yet no wound could see. 2 But unwearied thou pursu'dst me,
Still thy calls repeated came;
Bearing my reproach and blame;
Whilst I view each pierced limb, Tears bedew the scourge's furrow
Mingling with the purple stream. 3 I no more at Mary wonder Dropping tears upon
grave; Earnest asking all around her,
Where is he who died to save?
Dying love her heart attracted;
Soon she felt his rising power: He, who Mary thus affected,
Bids his mourners weep no more.
C.M.-Looking at the Cross. 1 IN evil long I took delight,
Unaw'd by shame or fear;
And stopp'd my wild career. 2 I saw one hanging on a tree,
In agonies and blood,
As near his cross I stood.
Can I forget that look;
Though not a word he spoke.
And plung'd me in despair;
And help'd to nail him there. 5 Alas! I knew not what I did,
But now my tears are vain!
For I the Lord have slain.
“ I freely all forgive; “ This blood is for thy ransom paid,
“ I die that thou may'st live. 7 Thus, while his death my sin displays,
In all its blackest hue, (Such is the mystery of grace)
It seals my pardon too.
8 With pleasing grief, and mournful joy,
My spirit now is fill'd,
Yet live by him I kill’d.
P.M.-Seeking after God. 1 THOU hidden Love of God, whose height,
Whose depth unfathom'd no man knows; I see from far thy beauteous light,
Inly I sigh for thy repose:
At rest, till it find rest in thee.
The sweetness of thy yoke to prove; And fain I would, but though my will
Seems fix’d, yet wide my passions rove; Yet hindrances strew all the way;
I aim at thee, yet from thee stray. 3 'Tis mercy all, that thou hast brought
My mind to seek her peace in thee! Yet while I seek, but find thee not,
No peace my wandering soul shall see. O when shall all my wanderings end,
And all my steps to thee-ward tend! 4 Is there a thing beneath the sun,
That strives with thee my heart to share? Ah! tear it thence, and reign alone,
The Lord of every motion there!
When it hath found repose in thee.
My heart, that lowly waits thy call: Speak to my inmost soul and say,
“I am thy Love, thy God, thy All!” To feel thy power, to hear thy voice, To taste thy love be all my choice!
190. P.M.—The Sinner's surrender to Grace. Acts ix. 6. 1 LORD, thou hast won, at length I yield; My heart
, by mighty grace compelld,
Love conquers even me.
I still had stubborn been:
And now I hate my sin.
For thou hast set me free;
To be employ'd by thee. 4 My will conform’d to thine would move; On thee my hope, desire, and love,
In fix'd attention join;
Yet nature ne'er hath found
Or heal the painful wound.
By methods of our own;
Can bring us near thy throne.
3 The threatenings of the broken law
Impress our souls with dread;
It strikes our spirits dead. 4 But thy illustrious sacrifice
Hath answer'd these demands,
Come down by Jesus' hands.
The altar and the lamb;
Salvation through his name.
'Tis on thy cross we rest; For ever be thy love ador’d, Thy name for ever blest.
192. P.M.- The Sacrifice of Christ pleaded. 1 PROSTRATE, with eyes of faith I see My Saviour fasten’d to the tree,
A victim on that altar laid,
The Righteous in the sinner's stead. 2 Well-pleasing to our God above His sacrifice of life and love
I plead before the gracious throne:
193. C.M.- The Fountain opened. Zech. xiii. 1. 1 THERE is a fountain fill'd with blood
Drawn from Immanuel's veins;
Lose all their guilty stains.