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Steele.

HYMN 110. L. M.

Armley. Bath.

Sufferings and Death.

1 STRETCH'D on the cross, the Saviour dies;
Hark! his expiring groans arise:
See from his hands, his feet, his side,
Runs down the sacred crimson tide.
2 But life attends the deathful sound,
And flows from every bleeding wound;
The vital stream how free it flows,
To save and cleanse his rebel foes!
3 Can I survey this scene of wo,
Where mingling grief and wonder flow;
And yet my heart unmov'd remain,
Insensible to love, or pain?

4 Come, dearest Lord, thy grace impart,
To warm this cold, this stupid heart!
"Till all its pow'rs and passions move
In melting grief, and ardent love.

HYMN 111. L. P. M.

Carolans. Harlington. Clapton.

1 O LOVE divine, what hast thou done! The Lord of life hath died for me! The Father's co-eternal Son

Bore all my sins upon the tree; Th' incarnate God for me hath died The Lord, my love, was crucified.

2 Sinners, behold, as ye pass by,

The bleeding Prince of life and peace;

Come, sinners, see your Saviour die,
And say, was ever grief like his?
Come, feel with me his blood applied,
The Lord, my love, was crucified :
3 Is crucified for you and me,

To bring us, rebels, back to God;
Salvation now for us is free;

His church is purchas'd with his blood;
Pardon and life flow from his side;
The Lord, my love, is crucified.
4 Then let us sit beneath his cross,

And gladly catch the healing stream;
All things for him account but dross,
And give up all our hearts to him;
Of nothing speak, or think beside,
The Lord, my love, was crucified.
HYMN 112. C. M.

Stennett.

Buckingham. Elgin. Plymouth.

1 YONDER-amazing sight-I see
Th' incarnate Son of God,
Expiring on th' accursed tree,
And welt'ring in his blood.

2 Behold the purple torrent run

Down from his hands and head:
The crimson tide puts out the sun;
His groans awake the dead.

3 The trembling earth, the darken'd sky, Proclaim the truth aloud;

And with th' amaz'd centurion cry,
"This is the Son of God."

4 So great, so vast a sacrifice May well my hope revive;

If God's own Son thus bleeds and dies,
The sinner sure may live.
HYMN 113. 8,7,4.

Littleton. Helmsley.

It is finished. John xix. 30.

F.

1 HARK! the voice of love and mercy!
Sounds aloud from Calvary,
See, it rends the rocks asunder-
Shakes the earth and veils the sky'
"It is finish'd!"-

Hear the Saviour—dying—cry.
2 It is finish'd!-Oh, what pleasure
Do these precious words afford!
Heav'nly blessings without measure,
Flow to us from Christ, the Lord :-
It is finish'd!-

Saints, the dying words record.
3 Finish'd-all the types and shadows
Of the ceremonial law;

Finish'd-all that God had promis'd;
Death and hell no more shall awe:
It is finish'd!-

Saints, from hence your comforts draw
4 Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs,-
Join to sing the pleasing theme;
All on earth, and all in heaven,
Join to praise Immanuel's name:
Hallelujah!

Glory to the bleeding Lamb!

HYMN 114.

L. M.

Munich. German.

Stennett.

1 'TIS finish'd! so the Saviour cried, And meekly bow'd his head and died; 'Tis finish'd-yes, the race is run, The battle fought, the victory won. 2 'Tis finish'd-all that heaven decreed, And all the ancient prophets said Is now fulfill'd, as was design'd, In me, the Saviour of mankind. 3 'Tis finish'd-this my dying groan Shall sins of every kind atone: Millions shall be redeem'd from death. By this my last expiring breath. 4 'Tis finish'd-heaven is reconcil'd, And all the powers of darkness spoil'd; Peace, love, and happiness again Return, and dwell with sinful men.

HYMN 115.

L. M.

Norfolk. Dresden.

Watts.

Dying, rising, and reigning.

1 HE dies!-the Friend of sinners dies!
Lo! Salem's daughters weep around!
A solemn darkness veils the skies!
A sudden trembling shakes the ground.
2 Come, saints, and drop a tear or two,
For him who groan'd beneath your load;
He shed a thousand drops for you—
A thousand drops of richer blood.

3 Here's love and grief beyond degreeThe Lord of glory dies for men! But lo! what sudden joys we see! Jesus, the dead—revives again ! 4 The rising God forsakes the tomb! Up to his Father's court he flies! Cherubic legions guard him home, And shout him welcome to the skies! 5 Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell How high our great Deliv'rer reigns; Sing, how he spoil'd the hosts of hell, And led the tyrant, death—in chains. 6 Say, "live for ever, glorious King, "Born to redeem, and strong to save!" Then ask-"O death, where is thy sting? And where thy vict'ry, boasting grave!" HYMN 116.

7s.

Hotham. Epiphany.

Collyer.

1 TO the cross where Jesus dies,

Where my Lord resigns his breath,
Where affliction veils his eyes,
Swimming in the tears of death:
Thither bringing all my guilt,
From avenging wrath I flee,
To the blood of sprinkling spilt-
Spilt to let the sinner free.

2 'Mid convulsive agonies,

Peace his quivering lips impart; Pardon seal'd by broken sighs Issuing from a bursting heart;

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