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C. M. 1 BEHOLD, where in a mortal form
Appears each grace divine !
With mildest radiance shine.
To give the mourner joy,
Was His divine employ.
Patient and meek He stood.
He labored for their good.
Before His Father's throne,
“Thy will, not mine, be done !"
His image may we bear!
William Enfield. 1772. a. 150
C. M. 1 In duties and in sufferings too
Thy path, my Lord, I'd tread;
Depending on Thy grace.
To do Thy Father's will;
Thy precepts to fulfil !
Through all Thy conduct shine ;
C. M. 1 0 Saviour, whom that holy morn
Gave to our world below,
And more than mortal woe!
By each temptation tried,
And to redeem died !
In dangerous wealth we dwell,
And lowly cottage cell.
In envious want we pine,
How poor a lot was Thine !
From sin preserve us free;
Reginald Heber. 1827. 152
S. M. 1 BEHOLD, the Prince of Peace,
The chosen of the Lord, God's well-beloved Son, fulfils
The sure prophetic Word. 2 No royal pomp adorns
This King of righteousness : Meekness and patience, truth and love,
Compose His princely dress. 3 Jesus, Thou Light of men !
Thy doctrine life imparts.
To warm and glad our hearts !
4 Cheered by its beams, our souls
Shall run the heavenly way.
John Needham. 1768. a. 153
nys. 1 FEEBLE, helpless, how shall I
Learn to live and learn to die?
Who shall lead Thy child to Thee?
Thou hast sent Thy holy Son;
He my trembling steps will lead.
Let me ever lean on Him;
Make His life my solemn law.
Led by Jesus Christ the Lord,
William H. Furness. 1844.
THE PASSION: 154
8,7. 1 In the Cross of Christ I glory,
Towering o'er the wrecks of time;
Gathers round its head sublime. 2 When the woes of life o'ertake me,
Hopes deceive, and fears annoy,
3 When the sun of bliss is beaming
Light and love upon my way,
Adds new lustre to the day.
By the Cross are sanctified ;
Sir John Bowring. 1825. 155
S. M. 1 Not all the blood of beasts,
On Jewish altars slain,
Or wash away the stain.
Takes all our stains away; A Sacrifice of nobler name,
And richer blood than they. 3 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 burden Thou didst bear, When hanging on the cursed tree,
And hopes her guilt was there. 5 Believing, we rejoice
To see the curse remove;
And sing His bleeding Love. Watts. 1709. 156
C. P. M. 1 0 Taoy who didst Thy glory leave, Apostate sinners to retrieve
From nature's deadly fall,
Thou hast redeemed me with a price,
For Thou hast borne them all. 2 Jesus was punished in my stead, Without the gate my Surety bled,
To expiate my stain ;
The sufferings of the Man.
Did for His foes expire ! Amazed, 0 earth, the tidings hear; He bore, that we might never bear
His Father's righteous ire. 4 Ye saints, the Man of sorrows bless, The God, for your unrighteousness,
Deputed to atone: Praise Him, till, with the heavenly throng, Ye sing the never-ending song,
And see Him on His throne.
Augustus Montague Toplady. 1759. a. 157
C. M. 1 THERE is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel's veins;
Lose all their guilty stains. 2 The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day; And there may I, as vile as he,
Wash all my sins away!
Shall never lose its power,