1 " "Tis finished:" so the Saviour cried, And meekly bowed his head, and died; ""Tis finished: 99 yes, the race is run, The battle fought, the victory won.

2 "Tis finished:" all that Heaven foretold By prophets in the days of old;

And truths are opened to our view,
That kings and prophets never knew.

3" "Tis finished:" Son of God, thy power
Hath triumphed in this awful hour;
And yet our eyes with sorrow see
That life to us was death to thee.

cry:

1 RIDE on, ride on in majesty: Hark! all the tribes "Hosanna " Thine humble beast pursues his road, With palms and scattered garments strewed.

2 Ride on, ride on in majesty ;

In lowly pomp ride on to die:
O Christ! thy triumphs now begin,
O'er captive death and conquered sin.

3 Ride on, ride on in majesty:

The winged squadrons of the sky
Look down with sad and wondering eyes
To see the approaching sacrifice.

4 Ride on, ride on in majesty;
Thy last and fiercest strife is nigh:
The Father, on his glorious throne,
Expects his own anointed Son.

5 Ride on, ride on in majesty:
In lowly pomp ride on to die;
Bow thy meek head to mortal pain,
Then take, O Christ! thy power, and
reign.

400.

Behold the Man!

CHR. PSALMIST.

CH. ZEUNER.

404.

Resurrection of Christ.

COLLYER.

1 MORNING breaks upon the tomb,
Jesus dissipates its gloom;
Day of triumph through the skies,
See the glorious Saviour rise!

2 Christians, dry your flowing tears;
Chase those unbelieving fears;
Look on his deserted grave;
Doubt no more his power to save.

3 Ye who are of death afraid,

Triumph in the scattered shade;
Drive your anxious fears away:
See the place where Jesus lay!

4 So the rising sun appears,
Shedding radiance o'er the spheres;
So returning beams of light
Chase the terrors of the night.

407.

Rejoicing in Christ. ANCIENT HYMNS.

1 SWEET thy memory, Saviour blest,
In the true believer's breast;
Musing on thy precious name,
Purest joys his heart inflame.

2 By the ear or tuneful tongue
Nought so sweet is heard or sung;
Nought the mind can dwell upon
Sweet as God's beloved Son.

3 Thou the contrite sinner's stay;
Who thy goodness can display?
How, to those who seek thee, kind!
What, ah! what, to those who find?

4 Tongue can speak not their delight,
Nor can pen of man indite;
None can know but they who prove
What it is their Lord to love.

2 For us all, thy feast is spread;
For us all, thy blood was shed:
Thou didst die that all might live:
For all sin thyself didst give.

3 Lowly we, around thy board,
Hold communion with our Lord;
In our midst thy form we see,
And through faith would feed on thec.

4 Let our guilt be washed away, Let our darkness turn to day; May thy smile upon us rest, While we lean upon thy breast'

5 Should thy cross upon us press, We shall feel our sorrows less; Should thy yoke upon us bear, Thou wilt every burden share.

6 And when here on earth no more
Round thy table we may draw,

In thy Father's kingdom we.
Through thy grace, would sup with thee.