The Spirit is sent down to breathe
On such dry bones as we.

6 Raised from the dead, we live anew;
And, justified by grace,

We shall appear in glory too,
And see our Father's face.

103

1

GOD

The Lamb of God.

OD of my salvation, hear,
And help me to believe;
Now to thee do I draw near,
Thy blessing to receive :
Full of sin, alas, I am,

But to thee for refuge flee;
Friend of sinners, spotless Lamb,
Thy blood was shed for me.
2 No good word, or work, or thought,
I bring to buy thy grace;
Pardon I accept, unbought;
Thy proffer I embrace.
Needy, guilty, vile I am,

Yet I know thy love is free;
Friend of sinners, spotless Lamb,
Thy blood was shed for me.
3 Saviour, from thy wounded side
I never will depart;

At thy cross will I abide,

And give thee there my heart; When my place above I claim,

I will make the cross my plea; Friend of sinners, spotless Lamb,

Watts.

7.6.

Thy blood was shed for me. C. Wesley. (alt'd.) 104 Crucifixion to the World. Gal. vi. 14.

1 W

HEN I survey the wondrous cross On which the Prince of glory died, My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride. 2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

Save in the death of Christ, my God; All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to his blood.

3 See, from his head, his hands, his feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down!

L. M.

Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,

Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

4 Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small; Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

105

Christ our Sacrifice.

1 NOT all the blood of beasts

On Jewish altars slain,

Could give the guilty conscience peace,
Or wash away the stain.

2 But Christ, the heavenly Lamb,
Takes all our sins away;

3

A sacrifice of nobler name
And richer blood than they.
My faith would lay her hand
On that dear head of thine,
While like a penitent I stand,
And there confess my sin.

4 My soul looks back to see

The burdens thou didst bear, When hanging on the cursed tree, And hopes her guilt was there.

5 Believing, we rejoice

To see the curse remove;

We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice,
And sing his bleeding love.

106 The Robe of Righteousness. Isa. Ixi. 10.

1 AWAKE, my heart, arise, my tongue,
Prepare a tuneful voice;

In God, the life of all my joys,
Aloud will I rejoice.

2 'Tis he adorned my naked soul,
And made salvation mine;
Upon a poor polluted worm
He makes his graces shine.
3 And lest the shadow of a spot
Should on my soul be found,
He took the robe the Saviour wrought,
And cast it all around.

Watts.

S. M.

Watts.

C. M.

4 How far the heavenly robe exceeds
What earthly princes wear!
These ornaments, how bright they shine!
How white the garments are!

5 The Spirit wrought my faith and love
And hope and every grace;
But Jesus spent his life to work
The robe of righteousness.

6 Strangely, my soul, art thou arrayed
By the great sacred Three;

In sweetest harmony of praise
Let all thy powers agree.

107

1 W

Redemption by Christ.

HEN the first parents of our race
Rebelled against their God,

And the infection of their sin
Had tainted all our blood,—

2 Infinite pity touched the heart
Of the eternal Son;

Descending from the heavenly court,
He left his Father's throne.

3 Aside the Prince of glory threw
His most divine array;

And wrapped his Godhead in a vail
Of our inferior clay.

4 His living power and dying love
Redeemed unhappy men;

And raised the ruins of our race
To life and God again.

5 To thee, dear Lord, our flesh and soul
We joyfully resign;
Bless'd Jesus, take us for thy own,
For we are doubly thine.

6 Thine honor shall forever be
The business of our days;

For ever shall our thankful tongues
Speak thy deserved praise.

108

1

Glorying in the Cross.

HOU art my hiding-place, O Lord,
In thee I fix my trust,

Watts.

C. M.

Watts.

C. M.

Encouraged by thy holy word-
A feeble child of dust:
I have no argument beside,
I urge no other plea,

And 'tis enough-the Saviour died,
The Saviour died for me.

2 When storms of fierce temptation beat,
And furious foes assail,
My refuge is the mercy-seat,
My hope within the vail;

From strife of tongues and bitter words,
My spirit flies to thee:
Joy to my heart the thought affords-
My Saviour died for me.

3 'Mid trials heavy to be borne,

When mortal strength is vain,
A heart with grief and anguish torn,
A body racked with pain-
Ah, what could give the sufferer rest,
Bid every murmur flee—

But this the witness in my breast
That Jesus died for me?

4 And when thy awful voice commands
This body to decay,

And life, in its last lingering sands,
Is ebbing fast away-

Then, though it be in accents weak,
My voice shall call on thee,

And ask for strength in death to speak-
"My Saviour died for me."

109

Christ's voluntary Sacrifice.

1 HOW condescending and how kind

Was God's eternal Son!

Our misery reached his heavenly mind,
And pity brought him down.

2 When justice, by our sins provoked,
Drew forth its dreadful sword,
He gave his soul up to the stroke,
Without a murmuring word.

3 He sunk beneath our heavy woes,
To raise us to his throne:

Raffles.

C.M.

There's ne'er a gift his hand bestows
But cost his heart a groan.

4 This was compassion like a God-
That when the Saviour knew
The price of pardon was his blood,
His pity ne'er withdrew.

5 Now, though he reigns exalted high,
His love is still as great:
Well he remembers Calvary,
Nor lets his saints forget.

6 Here let our hearts begin to melt,
While we his death record;
And, with our joy for pardoned guilt,
Mourn that we pierced the Lord.

110

Praise to the Redeemer,

1 PLUNGED in a gulf of dark despair,
We wretched sinners lay,

Without one cheerful beam of hope,
Or spark of glimmering day.

2 With pitying eyes the Prince of grace
Beheld our helpless grief;

He saw-and oh, amazing love!
He ran to our relief.

3 Down from the shining seats above,
With joyful haste he fled,
Entered the grave in mortal flesh,
And dwelt among the dead.

4 He spoiled the powers of darkness thus,
And brake our iron chains;

Jesus hath freed our captive souls
From everlasting pains.

5 Oh, for this love let rocks and hills
Their lasting silence break;
And all harmonious human tongues
The Saviour's praises speak.

6 Angels, assist our mighty joys;
Strike all your harps of gold;

But when you raise your highest notes,
His love can ne'er be told.

Watts.

C. M.

Watts.