2 Make me see Thy great distress, Anguish and affliction,

Bonds and stripes, and wretchedness, And Thy crucifixion;

Make me see how scourge and rod, Spear and nails did wound Thee, How for man Thou diedst, O God, Who with thorns had crowned Thee.

3 Yet, O Lord, not thus alone
Make me see Thy passion,

But its cause to me make known,
And its termination.

Ah! I also and my sin

Wrought Thy deep affliction; This the real cause hath been Of Thy crucifixion.

4 Grant that I Thy passion view With repentant grieving, Nor Thee crucify anew

By unholy living.

How could I refuse to shun
Every sinful pleasure,
Since for me God's only Son
Suffered without measure?

5 If my sins give me alarm

And my conscience grieve me,
Let Thy cross my fear disarm,
Peace of conscience give me.
Grant that I may trust in Thee
And Thy holy passion;
If His Son so loveth me,

God must have compassion.

6 Grant that I may willingly Bear with Thee my crosses.

Learning humbleness of Thee,
Peace 'mid pain and losses.
May I give Thee love for love.
Hear me, O my Savior,
That I may in heaven above
Sing Thy praise forever.

198

L. M.

To Thee, Lord Jesus, thanks we give, Who diedst for us, that we might live, And through Thy holy, precious blood Hast made us righteous before God.

2 We pray Thee, O true God and Man, Who wast for our offences slain: Save us from everlasting death,

And cheer us, when we yield our breath.

3 Defend us, Lord, from sin and shame; Help us by Thine almighty name To bear our crosses patiently,

To trust in Thy great agony.

4 And thence the full assurance gain, That Thou wilt e'er our Friend remain, And not forsake us in our strife,

Until we enter into life.

194

8, 7, 8, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8

JESUS, grant that balm and healing
In Thy holy wounds I find,
Every hour that I am feeling
Pains of body and of mind.

Should some evil thought upstart,
Let Thy cross defend my heart,
Show the peril, and from sinning
Keep me ere its first beginning.

2 Should some lust or sharp temptation Prove too strong for flesh and blood, Let me think upon Thy passion,

And the breach is soon made good.
Or should Satan make his way
To my heart, O let me say:

"Jesus Christ for me was wounded," And the Tempter flees confounded.

3 If the world my heart entices

On the broad and easy road,
Filled with mirth and pleasant vices,
Let me think upon the load
Thou didst once for me endure,
That I flee all thoughts impure,
Banishing each wild emotion,
Calm and blest in my devotion.

4 Yes, whate'er may pain or grieve me, Let Thy wounds, Lord, make me whole.

When I'm faint, let them revive me,
Granting new life to my soul.

May Thy comfort render sweet
Every bitter cup I meet,

Thou who by Thy death and passion
Hast procured my soul's salvation!

5 O my God, my rock and tower!

Grant that in Thy death I trust, Knowing death has lost his power Since Thou trod'st him in the dust. Savior, let Thine agony

Ever help and comfort me;
Let Thy death be my protection,
Safety, life, and resurrection.

6 Jesus, grant that balm and healing
In Thy holy wounds I find,

Every hour that I am feeling

Pains of body and of mind; And when I this world must leave, Grant that, Lord, to Thee I cleave, In Thy wounds find consolation, And obtain my soul's salvation.

195

L. M.

LORD Jesus Christ, my Life, my Light,
My Strength by day, my Trust by

night,

On earth I'm but a passing guest,
And sorely with my sins oppressed.

2 Far off I see my fatherland,
Where through Thy blood I hope to
stand,

But ere I reach that Paradise,
A weary way before me lies.

3 My heart sinks at the journey's length, My wasted flesh has little strength, Only my soul still cries in me: "Lord, take me home, take me to Thee!"

4 O let Thy sufferings give me power
To meet the last and darkest hour;
Thy sweat refresh and comfort me,
Thy bonds and fetters make me free!

5 The blows and stripes that fell on Thee Heal up the wounds of sin in me; Thy crown of thorns, Thy foes' mad spite

Let be my glory and delight!

6 That thirst and bitter draught of Thine Let help me bear with patience mine:

Thy piercing cry uphold my soul,
When floods of anguish o'er me roll!

7 O let Thy holy wounds for me

Clefts in the rock forever be,

Where as a dove my soul can hide
And safe from Satan's rage abide.

8 And when my lips grow white and chill, Thy Spirit cry within me still,

And help my soul Thy heaven to find, When these poor eyes grow dark and blind!

9 And when my spirit flies away,

Thy parting words shall be my stay,
Let me depart with peaceful brow,
When I in death my head shall bow.

10 Thy cross shall be my staff in life,
Thy holy grave my rest from strife;
The winding-sheet that covered Thee,
O let it be a shroud for me.

11 Lord, from Thy nail-prints let me read
That Thou to save me hast decreed,
And grant that in Thy opened side
My troubled soul may ever hide.

12 Since Thou hast died, the Pure, the
Just,

I take my homeward way in trust,
The gates of heaven, Lord, open wide,
When here I may no more abide.

13 And when the last great day shall come, And Thou, our Judge, shalt speak the doom,

Let me with joy behold the light,

And set me then upon, Thy right.