2 Our broken spirits, pitying, see;
True penitence impart;
And let a kindling glance from thee
Beam hope upon the heart.
3 When we disclose our wants in prayer,
May we our wills resign;
And not a thought our bosom share
Which is not wholly thine.
4 Let faith each weak petition fill,
And waft it to the skies,
And teach our hearts 'tis goodness still
That grants it, or denies.
"Jesus Christ, the same, yesterday, to-day, Six 8s. and for ever."
And now made willing to return, I hear and bow me to the rod;
For thee, not without hope, I mourn:
I have an advocate above,
A friend before the throne of love.
2 O Jesus, full of pardoning grace,
More full of grace than I of sin;
Yet once again I seek thy face:
Open thine arms and take me in;
And freely my backslidings heal,
And love the faithless sinner still.
3 Thou know'st the way to bring me back,
My fallen spirit to restore :
O for thy truth and mercy's sake,
Forgive, and bid me sin no more:
The ruins of my soul repair,
And make my heart a house of
"God be merciful to me, a sinner."
WITH broken heart and contrite sigh
A trembling sinner, Lord, I cry;
Thy pardoning grace is rich and free:
O God, be merciful to me.
2 I smite upon my troubled breast,
With deep and conscious guilt oppressed;
Christ and his cross my only plea :
O God, be merciful to me.
3 Far off I stand with tearful eyes,
Nor dare uplift them to the skies;
But thou dost all my anguish see:
O God, be merciful to me.
4 Nor alms, nor deeds that I have done,
Can for a single sin atone;
To Calvary alone I flee :
O God, be merciful to me.
5 And when, redeemed from sin and hell,
With all the ransomed throng I dwell,
My raptured song shall ever be,
God has been merciful to me.
Palm Sunday and Passion Week.
"Out of the mouths of babes and suck.
78. 68. lings thou hast perfected praise." with Chorus.
LL glory, laud, and honour,
To thee, Redeemer, King!
To whom the lips of children
Made sweet Hosannas ring.
2 Thou art the King of Israel,
Thou David's royal Son,
Who in the Lord's name comest,
The King and Blessed One.
3 The company of angels
Are praising thee on high;
And mortal men, and all things
Created, make reply.
4 The people of the Hebrews
With palms before thee went :
Our praise and prayer and anthems
Before thee we present.
5 To thee before thy Passion
They sang their hymns of praise :
To thee, now high exalted
Our melody we raise.
6 Thou didst accept their praises;
Accept the prayers we bring,
Who in all good delightest,
Thou good and gracious King.
All glory, etc.
"And the multitudes that went before, and
that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to
the Son of David!"
RIDE on! ride on in majesty!
Hark! all the tribes Hosanna cry;
O Saviour meek, pursue thy road
With palms and scatter'd garments strow'd.
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 conquer'd sin.
3 Ride on! ride on in majesty!
The winged armies of the sky
Look down with sad and wondering eyes
To see the approaching sacrifice.
4 Ride on! ride on in majesty!
The last and fiercest strife is nigh;
The Father on his sapphire 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 God, thy power, and reign.
The precious blood of Christ."
LORY be to Jesus,
GWho in bitter pains
Poured for me the life-blood
From his sacred veins !
Grace and life eternal
In that blood I find.
Blest be his compassion
Infinitely kind!
2 Blest through endless ages
Be the precious stream,
Which from endless torments
Did the world redeem!
Abel's blood for vengeance
Pleaded to the skies;
But the blood of Jesus
For our pardon cries.
3 Oft as earth exulting
Wafts its praise on high,
Angel-hosts, rejoicing,
Make their glad reply.
Lift ye then your voices;
Swell the mighty flood;
Louder still and louder,
Praise the precious blood.
"He was wounded for our transgressions." C. M.
My Saviour hanging on the tree,
In agonies and blood,
Methought once turn'd his eyes on me,
As near his cross I stood.
2 Sure, never till my latest breath
Can I forget that look;
It seem'd to charge me with his death,
Though not a word he spoke.
3 My conscience felt and own'd the guilt,
And plunged me in despair;
I saw my sins his blood had spilt,
And help'd to nail him there.
4 Alas! I knew not what I did;
But now my tears are vain :
Where shall my trembling soul be hid?
For I the Lord have slain.
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