The temple's veil in sunder breaks, The solid marbles rend. 3 'Tis done; the precious ransom's paid; "Receive my soul!" He cries: See where He bows His sacred head! 4 But soon He'll break death's envious chain, And in full glory shine. O Lamb of God! was ever pain, 212 8, 7, 8, 7, 7, 7 COME to Calvary's holy mountain, 2 Come in poverty and meanness, Wash your robes and make them white; 3 Come in sorrow and contrition, Wounded, impotent, and blind; Here the guilty free remission, Here the troubled peace, may find: Health this fountain will restore; He that drinks shall thirst no more. 4 He that drinks shall live forever; "Tis a soul-renewing flood: God is faithful; God will never Break His covenant of blood, Signed when our Redeemer died, 213 SAVIOR, when in dust to Thee 2 By Thy helpless infant years, 3 By Thine hour of dire despair, 7s 81 By the cross, the nail, the thorn, 4 By Thy deep expiring groan; 214 C. M. . ALAS! and did my Savior bleed, And did my Sov'reign die, 2 Was it for crimes that I had done 3 Well might the sun in darkness hide, When God, the mighty Maker, died 4 Thus might I hide my blushing face 5 But drops of grief can ne'er repay The debt of love I owe; Here, Lord, give myself away, "Tis all that I can do. 215 O DARKEST woe! Ye tears, forth flow! Has earth so sad a wonder? God the Father's only Son 2 O sorrow dread! Our God is dead. But by His expiation 4, 4, 7, 7, 6 3 O child of man! It was the ban Of death on thee that brought Him Down to suffer for thy sins, And such woe hath wrought Him. 4 See, stained with blood, The Lamb of God, The Bridegroom, lies before thee, Pouring out His life that He May to life restore thee. 5 O Ground of faith, Laid low in death! Sweet lips now silent sleeping! 6 O Virgin-born, Thy death we mourn, Thou lovely Star of gladness! Who could see Thy reeking blood Without grief and sadness? 7 Yea, blest is he Whose heart shall be Fixed here, who apprehendeth To the grave descendeth. 8 O Jesus blest, My Help and Rest, With tears I now entreat Thee: Make me love Thee to the last, 216 SO rest, my Rest! Thou ever Blest! 4, 4, 7, 7, 6. Thy grave with sinners making; By Thy precious death from sin My dead soul awaking. 2 After Thy strife, Life of my life, Thou'rt in the tomb reposing, Round Thee now a rock-hewn grave, Rock of Ages, closing. 3 How cold art Thou, My Savior, now! Thy fervent love hath driven 4 Breath of all breath! I know from death Thou wilt my dust awaken; Wherefore should I dread the grave, Or my faith be shaken? 5 To me the tomb Shall be a room Where I lie down on roses; Who by faith hath conquered death, 6 The body dies Naught else - and lies In dust, until victorious From the grave it shall arise 7 Meantime I will, My Savior, still Deep in my bosom lay Thee, Ever musing on Thy death: Leave me not, I pray Thee! |