2 I wish that His hands had been placed on my head, And that I might have seen His kind look when He said, may go, 3 Yet still to His footstool in prayer I 5 But thousands and thousands who wander and fall I should like them to know there is room for them all, 6 I long for the joy of that glorious time, Mrs. Jemima Luke, 1841 0:4 4 1 In His own raiment clad, With His blood dyed; Women walk sorrow-ing By His side. 2 Heavy that cross to Him, Weary the weight; One who will help Him waits 3 See! they are travelling On the same road: Simon is sharing with Him the load. 4 O whither wandering, Bear they that tree? He who first carries it, Who is He? 2 II.- THE ANSWER. 0:4 5 Fol-low to Cal-va- ry; Tread where He trod, He who for ever was Son of God. 0:4 4 9 On the cross lifted Thy face I scan-Bearing that cross for me, Son of Man. 10 Thorns form Thy diadem, Rough wood Thy throne; For us Thy blood is shed, 11 No pillow under Thee To rest Thy head; 12 Nails pierce Thy hands and feet, Thy side the spear; No voice is nigh, to say Help is near. 13 Shadows of midnight fall, Thy friends and kinsfolk stand 14 Loud is Thy bitter cry: Sunk on Thy breast 15 Loud scoffs the dying thief, 16 Gazing, afar from Thee, Silent and lone, Stand those few weepers Thou 17 I see Thy title, Lord, 18 What, O my Saviour, IV. THE APPEAL FROM THE CROSS. 19 Child of My grief and pain,Watched by My love,, I came to call thee to Realms above. 23 O I will follow Thee, Star of my soul,Through the deep shades of life To the goal. 26 Grant through each day of life With Thee, when morning breaks, Rev. Edward Monro, 1864: verse 21 alt. |