Chapter III: Introduction (3)

Hark! from the world on high
Glory to God!
Now swells along the sky
Glory to God!
Songs, like sweet notes of praise,
Pour forth in rapturous lays,
As all the voices raise
Glory to God!

2 Hear how the angels sing
Glory to God!
Through all the heavens ring
Glory to God!
Now, let each heart on earth
Sing of the Saviour’s birth,
Telling his matchless worth,
Glory to God!

LIFE AND MINISTRY.

141 L. M.
His teaching.

How sweetly flowed the gospel sound
From lips of gentleness and grace,
When listening thousands gathered round,
And joy and gladness filled the place!

2 From heaven he came, of heaven he spoke,
To heaven he led his followers’ way;
Dark clouds of gloomy night he broke,
Unvailing an immortal day.

3 “Come, wanderers, to my Father’s home:
Come, all ye weary ones, and rest!”
Yes, sacred Teacher, we will come,
Obey thee, love thee, and be blest.

142 L. M. 6 lines.
His baptism.

In Jordan’s tide the Baptist stands,
Immersing the repenting Jews;
The Son of God the rite demands,
Nor dares the holy man refuse:
Jesus descends beneath the wave,
The emblem of his future grave!

2 Wonder, ye heavens! your Maker lies
In deeps concealed from human view;
Ye saints, behold him sink and rise;
A fit example this for you:
The sacred record, while you read,
Calls you to imitate the deed.

3 But, lo! from yonder opening skies,
What beams of dazzling glory spread!
Dove-like the Holy Spirit flies,
And lights on the Redeemer’s head:
Amazed they see the power divine
Around the Saviour’s temples shine.

4 But, hark! my soul, hark, and adore!
What sounds are those that roll along?
Not loud, like Sinai’s awful roar;
But soft and sweet as Gabriel’s song:
“This is my well-belovéd Son,
I see well-pleased what he hath done.”

5 Thus the eternal Father spoke,
Who shakes creation with a nod,
Through parting skies the accents broke,
And bid us hear the Son of God;
O hear the awful word to-day;
Hear, all ye nations, and obey!

143 L. M.
His holy life.

And is the gospel peace and love?
Such let our conversation be:
The serpent blended with the dove—
Wisdom and meek simplicity.

2 Whene’er the angry passions rise,
And tempt our thoughts or tongues to strife
On Jesus let us fix our eyes,
Bright pattern of the Christian life.

3 O how benevolent and kind!
How mild! how ready to forgive!
Be his the temper of our mind,
And his the rules by which we live.

4 To do his heavenly Father’s will
Was his employment and delight;
Humility, and love, and zeal,
Shone through his life divinely bright.

5 Dispensing good where’er he came,
The labors of his life were love—
O! if we love the Saviour’s name,
Let his divine example move.

6 But ah! how blind, how weak we are!
How frail, how apt to turn aside!
Lord, we depend upon thy care;
O may thy spirit be our guide!

7 Thy fair example may we trace,
To teach us what we ought to be;
Make us, by thy transforming grace,
Lord Jesus, daily more like thee.

144 L. M.
The meekness and gentleness of Christ.
2 Cor. 10:1.

How beauteous were the marks divine,
That in thy meekness used to shine;
That lit thy lonely pathway, trod
In wondrous love, O Son of God!

2 O, who like thee—so calm, so bright,
So pure, so made to live in light?
O, who like thee did ever go
So patient through a world of woe?

3 O, who like thee so humbly bore
The scorn, the scoffs of men, before?
So meek, forgiving, godlike, high,
So glorious in humility?

4 The bending angels stooped to see,
The lisping infant clasp thy knee,
And smile, as in a father’s eye,
Upon thy mild divinity.

5 And death, which sets the prisoner free,
Was pang, and scoff, and scorn to thee;
Yet love through all thy torture glowed,
And mercy with thy life-blood flowed.

6 O, in thy light be mine to go,
Illuming all my way of woe;
And give me ever on the road
To trace thy footsteps, Son of God!

145 L. M.
His miracles.

Behold the blind their sight receive!
Behold the dead awake and live!
The dumb speak wonders, and the lame
Leap like the hart, and bless his name!

2 Thus doth the Holy Spirit own
And seal the mission of the Son;
The Father vindicates his cause,
While he hangs bleeding on the cross.

3 He dies: the heavens in mourning stood;
He rises by the power of God:
Behold the Lord ascending high,
No more to bleed, no more to die!

4 Hence and for ever from my heart
I bid my doubts and fears depart;
And to those hands my soul resign,
Which bear credentials so divine.

146 L. M.
His example.

My dear Redeemer and my Lord,
I read my duty in thy word;
But in thy life the law appears
Drawn out in living characters.

2 Such was thy truth, and such thy zeal,
Such deference to thy Father’s will,
Such love, and meekness so divine;
I would transcribe and make them mine.

3 Cold mountains and the midnight air
Witnessed the fervor of thy prayer;
The desert thy temptations knew,
Thy conflict and thy victory too.

4 Be thou my pattern; make me bear
More of thy gracious image here;
Then God the judge shall own my name
Among the followers of the Lamb.

147 L. M.
He so loved the world.
John 3:16.

Not to condemn the sons of men,
Did Christ, the Son of God, appear;
No weapons in his hands are seen,
No flaming sword, nor thunder there.

2 Such was the pity of our God,
He loved the race of man so well,
He sent his Son to bear our load
Of sins, and save our souls from hell.

3 Sinners, believe the Saviour’s word;
Trust in his mighty name, and live:
A thousand joys his lips afford,
His hands a thousand blessings give.

148 C. H. M.
His poverty.

As much have I of worldly good
As e’er my Master had;
I diet on as dainty food,
And am as richly clad;
Though plain my garb, though scant my hoard,
As Mary’s Son and nature’s Lord.

2 The manger was his infant bed,
His home the mountain cave;
He had not where to lay his head—
He borrowed e’en his grave;
Earth yielded him no resting-spot;
Her Maker, but she knew him not.

3 As much the world’s good-will I share,
Its favors and applause,
As he whose blessed name I bear,
Hated without a cause;
Despised, rejected, mocked by pride,
Betrayed, forsaken, crucified.

4 Why should I court my Master’s foe?
Why should I fear its frown?
Why should I seek for rest below?
Or sigh for brief renown?
A pilgrim to a better land,
An heir of joy at God’s right hand.

149 C. M.
He went about doing good.
Acts 10:38.

Behold, where, in a mortal form,
Appears each grace divine;
The virtues, all in Jesus met,
With mildest radiance shine.

2 To spread the rays of heavenly light,
To give the mourner joy,
To preach glad tidings to the poor,
Was his divine employ.

3 ’Midst keen reproach, and cruel scorn,
Patient and meek he stood;
His foes, ungrateful, sought his life;
He labored for their good.

4 In the last hour of deep distress,
Before his Father’s throne,
With soul resigned, he bowed, and said,
“Thy will, not mine, be done!”

5 Be Christ our pattern and our guide;
His image may we bear;
O, may we tread his holy steps,
His joy and glory share!

150 C. M.
The man of sorrows.

A pilgrim through this lonely world,
The blessed Saviour passed;
A mourner all his life was he,
A dying Lamb at last.

2 That tender heart which felt for all,
For us its life-blood gave;
It found on earth no resting-place,
Save only in the grave!

3 Such was our Lord: and shall we fear
The cross with all its scorn?
Or love a faithless, evil world,
That wreathed his brow with thorn?

4 No; facing all its frowns or smiles,
Like him, obedient still,
We homeward press, through storm or calm,
To Zion’s blessed hill.

151 C. M.
Mighty to save.

The winds were howling o’er the deep;
Each wave a watery hill;
The Saviour wakened from his sleep;
He spake, and all was still.

2 The madman in a tomb had made
His mansion of despair;
Woe to the traveler who strayed,
With heedless footsteps, there.

3 He met that glance so thrilling sweet,
He heard those accents mild;
And, melting at Messiah’s feet,
Wept like a weanéd child.

4 O, madder than the raving man!
O, deafer than the sea!
How long the time since Christ began
To call in vain to me!

5 Yet could I hear him once again,
As I have heard of old,
Methinks he should not call in vain
His wanderer to the fold.

152 C. P. M.
His unsearchable riches.

O could I speak the matchless worth,
O could I sound the glories forth,
Which in my Saviour shine;
I’d soar, and touch the heavenly strings,
And vie with Gabriel, while he sings
In notes almost divine.

2 I’d sing the precious blood he spilt,
My ransom from the dreadful guilt
Of sin, and wrath divine;
I’d sing his glorious righteousness,
In which all-perfect, heavenly dress,
My soul shall ever shine.

3 I’d sing the characters he bears,
And all the forms of love he wears,
Exalted on his throne;
In loftiest songs of sweetest praise,
I would to everlasting days
Make all his glories known.

4 Well, the delightful day will come,
When my dear Lord will bring me home,
And I shall see his face;
Then, with my Saviour, Brother, Friend,
A blest eternity I’ll spend,
Triumphant in his grace.

153 11s.
A bruised reed he shall not break.
Matt. 12:20.

To the hall of that feast came the sinful and fair:
She heard in the city that Jesus was there:
Unheeding the splendor that blazed on the board,
She silently knelt at the feet of her Lord!

2 The hair on her forehead, so sad and so meek,
Hung dark on the blushes that glowed on her cheek;
And so sad and so lowly she knelt in her shame,
It seemed that her spirit had fled from her frame.

3 The frown and the murmur went round thro’ them all,
That one so unhallowed should tread in the hall;
And some said the poor would be objects more meet
For the wealth of the perfume she showered on his feet.

4 She heard but her Saviour—she spoke but in sighs,
She dared not look up to the heaven of his eyes:
And the hot tears gushed forth at each heave of her breast,
As her lips to his sandals she throbbingly pressed.

5 In the sky, after tempest, as shineth the bow,
In the glance of the sunbeam as melteth the snow,
Ho looked on the lost one—her sins were forgiven,
And Mary went forth in the beauty of heaven!

154 10s & 11s, peculiar.
Sacred tears.

Draw near, ye weary, bowed, and broken-hearted,
Ye onward travelers to a peaceful bourne;
Ye from whose path the light hath all departed;
Ye who are left in solitude to mourn;
Though o’er your spirits hath the storm-cloud swept,
Sacred are sorrow’s tears, since “Jesus wept.”

2 The bright and spotless heir of endless glory,
Wept o’er the woes of those he came to save;
And angels wondered when they heard the story
That he who conquered death wept o’er the grave;
For ’twas not when his lonely watch he kept
In dark Gethsemane, that “Jesus wept.”

3 But with the friends he loved, whose hope had perished,
The Saviour stood, while through his bosom rushed
A tide of sympathy for those he cherished,
And from his eyes the burning tear-drops gushed;
And bending o’er the tomb where Lazarus slept,
In agony of spirit, “Jesus wept.”

4 Lo! Jesus’ power the sleep of death hath broken,
And wiped the tear from sorrow’s drooping eye!
Look up, ye mourners, hear what he hath spoken:
“He that believes on me, shall never die.”
Through faith and love your spirits shall be kept;
Hope brighter grew on earth when “Jesus wept.”

155 C. M. D.
He made himself of no reputation.
Phil. 2:7.

He came with his heavenly crown,
His scepter clad with power;
His coming was in feebleness,
The infant of an hour;
An humble manger cradled, first,
The Virgin’s holy birth,
And lowing herds surrounded there
The Lord of heaven and earth.

2 He came, not in his robe of wrath,
With arm outstretched to slay;
But on the darkling paths of earth,
To pour celestial day;
To guide in peace the wandering feet,
The broken heart to bind,
And bear upon the painful cross,
The sins of human kind.

3 And thou hast borne them, Saviour meek!
And therefore unto thee,
In humbleness and gratitude,
Our hearts shall offered be;
Our contrite hearts, an offering, Lord,
Which thou wilt not despise,
Our souls, our bodies, all be thine,
A living sacrifice!

156 8s, 7s & 7s.
Jesus wept.

Jesus wept! those tears are over,
But his heart is still the same;
Kinsman, Friend, and Elder Brother,
Is his everlasting name.
Saviour, who can love like thee?
Gracious one of Bethany!

2 When the pangs of trial seize us,
When the waves of sorrow roll,
I will lay my head on Jesus—
Pillow of the troubled soul.
Truly, none can feel like thee,
Weeping one of Bethany!

3 Jesus wept, and still in glory
He can mark each mourner’s tear—
Living to retrace the story
Of the hearts he solaced here.
Lord, when I am called to die,
Let me think of Bethany!

4 Jesus wept! that tear of sorrow
Is a legacy of love;
Yesterday, to-day, to-morrow,
He the same shall ever prove.
Thou art all in all to me,
Living one of Bethany!

CHRIST: SUFFERINGS.

157 L. M.
Christ the sufferer.

O suffering Friend of human kind!
How, as the fatal hour drew near,
Came thronging on thy holy mind
The images of grief and fear!

2 Gethsemane’s sad midnight scene,
The faithless friends, th’ exulting foes,
The thorny crown, the insult keen,
The scourge, the cross, before thee rose.

3 Did not thy spirit shrink dismayed,
As the dark vision o’er it came;
And, though in sinless strength arrayed,
Turn, shuddering, from the death of shame?

4 Onward, like thee, through scorn and dread,
May we our Father’s call obey,
Steadfast thy path of duty tread,
And rise, through death, to endless day.

158 L. M.
Led as a lamb to the slaughter.

The morning dawns upon the place
Where Jesus spent the night in prayer;
Through yielding glooms behold his face!
Nor form, nor comeliness is there.

2 Brought forth to judgment, now he stands
Arraigned, condemned, at Pilate’s bar;
Here, spurned by fierce pretorian bands;
There, mocked by Herod’s men of war.

3 He bears their buffeting and scorn—
Mock-homage of the lip, the knee—
The purple robe, the crown of thorn—
The scourge, the nail, the accursed tree.

4 No guile within his mouth is found;
He neither threatens nor complains;
Meek as a lamb for slaughter bound,
Dumb ’mid his murderers he remains.

5 But hark, he prays; ’tis for his foes
And speaks: ’tis comfort to his friends;
Answers: and paradise bestows;
He bows his head: the conflict ends.

159 L. M.
The midnight agony.

’Tis midnight; and on Olive’s brow
The star is dimmed that lately shone;
’Tis midnight; in the garden now,
The suffering Saviour prays alone.

2 ’Tis midnight; and, from all removed,
The Saviour wrestles lone, with fears;
E’en that disciple whom he loved
Heeds not his Master’s grief and tears.

3 ’Tis midnight; and for others’ guilt
The man of sorrows weeps in blood;
Yet he that hath in anguish knelt
Is not forsaken by his God.

4 ’Tis midnight; from the heavenly plains
Is borne the song that angels know;
Unheard by mortals are the strains
That sweetly soothe the Saviour’s woe.

160 C. M.
The bitter cup.

Dark was the night, and cold the ground
On which the Lord was laid:
His sweat like drops of blood ran down;
In agony he prayed.

2 “Father, remove this bitter cup,
If such thy sacred will;
If not, content to drink it up,
Thy pleasure I fulfill.”

3 Go to the garden, sinner: see
Those precious drops that flow;
The heavy load he bore for thee:
For thee he lies so low.

4 Then learn of him the cross to bear,
Thy Father’s will obey;
And, when temptations press thee near,
Awake to watch and pray.

161 S. M.
He beheld the city, and wept over it.
Luke 19:41.

Did Christ o’er sinners weep,
And shall our cheeks be dry?
Let tears of penitential grief
Flow forth from every eye.

2 The Son of God in tears,
The wondering angels see;
Be thou astonished, O my soul,
He shed those tears for thee.

3 He wept that we might weep,
Each sin demands a tear,
In heaven alone no sin is found
And there’s no weeping there.

162 7s, 6 lines.
His example in suffering.

Go to dark Gethsemane,
Ye that feel the tempter’s power;
Your Redeemer’s conflict see;
Watch with him one bitter hour:
Turn not from his griefs away;
Learn of Jesus Christ to pray.

2 Follow to the judgment hall:
View the Lord of life arraigned;
O, the wormwood and the gall!
O, the pangs his soul sustained!
Shun not suffering, shame, or loss;
Learn of him to bear the cross.

3 Calvary’s mournful mountain climb;
There, admiring at his feet,
Mark that miracle of time,
God’s own sacrifice complete:
“It is finished,” hear him cry;
Learn of Jesus Christ to die.

163 6s & 5s.
Christ in the garden.

Night with ebon pinion,
Brooded o’er the vale;
All around was silent,
Save the night-wind’s wail;
When Christ the man of sorrows,
In tears, and sweat, and blood,
Prostrate in the garden,
Raised his voice to God.

2 Smitten for offenses
Which were not his own,
He, for our transgressions,
Had to weep alone,
No friend with words to comfort,
Nor hand to help was there.
When the meek and lowly,
Humbly bowed in prayer.

3 Abba, Father, Father!
If indeed it may,
Let this cup of anguish,
Pass from me, I pray.
Yet, if it must be suffered,
By me, thine only Son,
Abba, Father, Father,
Let thy will be done.

164 P. M.
Gethsemane.

Beyond where Cedron’s waters flow,
Behold the suffering Saviour go
To sad Gethsemane;
His countenance is all divine,
Yet grief appears in every line.

2 He bows beneath the sins of men;
He cries to God, and cries again,
In sad Gethsemane:
He lifts his mournful eyes above—
“My Father, can this cup remove?”

3 With gentle resignation still,
He yielded to his Father’s will
In sad Gethsemane;
“Behold me here, thine only Son;
And, Father, let thy will be done.”

4 The Father heard; and angels, there,
Sustained the Son of God in prayer,
In sad Gethsemane:
He drank the dreadful cup of pain—
Then rose to life and joy again.

5 When storms of sorrow round us sweep,
And scenes of anguish make us weep,
To sad Gethsemane
We’ll look, and see the Saviour there,
And humbly bow, like him, in prayer.

165 C. H. M.
Agony in the garden.

He knelt; the Saviour knelt and prayed,
When but his Father’s eye
Looked, through the lonely garden shade,
On that dread agony;
The Lord of high and heavenly birth
Was bowed with sorrow unto death.

2 The sun went down in fearful hour;
The heavens might well grow dim,
When this mortality had power
Thus to o’ershadow him;
That he who came to save might know
The very depths of human woe.

3 He knew them all—the doubt, the strife,
The faint, perplexing dread;
The mists that hang o’er parting life
All darkened round his head;
And the Deliverer knelt to pray;
Yet passed it not, that cup, away.

4 It passed not, though the stormy wave
Had sunk beneath his tread;
It passed not, though to him the grave
Had yielded up its dead;
But there was sent him, from on high,
A gift of strength, for man to die.

5 And was his mortal hour beset
With anguish and dismay?
How may we meet our conflict yet
In the dark, narrow way?
How, but through him that path who trod:
“Save, or we perish, Son of God.”

166 S. H. M.
Betrayal.

Among the mountain trees,
The winds were whispering low,
And night’s ten thousand harmonies
Were harmonies of woe;
A voice of grief was on the gale,
It came from Cedron’s gloomy vale.

2 It was the Saviour’s prayer
That on the silence broke,
Imploring strength from heaven to bear
The sin-avenging stroke,
As in Gethsemane he knelt,
And pangs unknown his bosom felt.

3 The fitful starlight shone
In dim and misty gleams,
Deep was his agonizing groan,
And large the vital streams
That trickled to the dewy sod,
While Jesus raised his voice to God.

4 The chosen three that staid,
Their nightly watch to keep,
Left him through sorrows deep to wade,
And gave themselves to sleep:
Meekly and sad he prayed alone;
Strangely forgotten by his own.

5 Along the streamlet’s bank
The reckless traitor came,
And heavy on his bosom sank
The load of guilt and shame;
Yet unto them that waited nigh
He gave the Lamb of God to die.

6 Among the mountain trees
The winds were whispering low,
And night’s ten thousand harmonies
Were harmonies of woe;
For cruel voices filled the gale
That came from Cedron’s gloomy vale.

167 11s.
Thou sweet gliding Cedron.

Thou sweet gliding Cedron, by thy silver stream
Our Saviour would linger in moonlight’s soft beam:
And by thy bright waters till midnight would stay,
And lose in thy murmurs the toils of the day.
CHORUS.
Come, saints, and adore him; come bow at his feet;
O give him the glory, the praise that is meet;
Let joyful hosannas unceasing arise,
And join the full chorus that gladdens the skies.

2 How damp were the vapors that fell on his head,
How hard was his pillow, how humble his bed;
The angels beholding, amazed at the sight,
Attended their Master with solemn delight.

3 O garden of Olives! thou dear honored spot,
The fame of thy wonders shall ne’er be forgot;
The theme most transporting to seraphs above,
The triumph of sorrow, the triumph of love!

THE CRUCIFIXION.

168 L. M.
The bitter cry.

From Calvary a cry was heard—
A bitter and heart-rending cry:
My Saviour! every mournful word
Bespeaks thy soul’s deep agony.

2 A horror of great darkness fell
On thee, thou spotless holy One!
And all the swarming hosts of hell
Conspired to tempt God’s only Son.

3 The scourge, the thorns, the deep disgrace—
These thou couldst bear, nor once repine;
But when Jehovah vailed his face,
Unutterable pangs were thine.

4 Let the dumb world its silence break;
Let pealing anthems rend the sky;
Awake, my sluggish soul, awake!
He died, that we might never die.

5 Lord! on thy cross I fix mine eye;
If e’er I lose its strong control,
O! let that dying, piercing cry,
Melt and reclaim my wandering soul.

169 L. M.
Looking to the cross.

O Lord! when faith with fixéd eyes
Beholds thy wondrous sacrifice,
Love rises to an ardent flame,
And we all other hope disclaim.

2 With cold affections who can see
The thorns, the scourge, the nails, the tree,
The flowing tears and crimson sweat,
The bleeding hands, and head, and feet?

3 Jesus, what millions of our race
Have seen the triumphs of thy grace!
And millions more to thee shall fly,
And on thy sacrifice rely.

4 The sorrow, shame, and death, were thine,
And all the stores of wrath divine!
Ours are the pardon, life, and bliss;
What love can be compared to this!

170 L. M.
Herein is love!
1 John 4:10.

Have we no tears to shed for him,
While soldiers scoff, and Jews deride?
Ah! look, how patiently he hangs—
Jesus, our Love, is crucified!

2 What was thy crime, my dearest Lord?
By earth, by heaven, thou hast been tried,
And guilty found of too much love;
Jesus, our Love, is crucified!

3 Found guilty of excess of love,
It was thine own sweet will that tied
Thee tighter far than helpless nails;
Jesus, our Love, is crucified!

4 O break, O break, hard heart of mine!
Thy weak self-love and guilty pride
His Pilate and his Judas were;
Jesus, our Love, is crucified!

171 L. M.
Behold the Man!

Behold the Man! how glorious he!
Before his foes he stands unawed,
And, without wrong or blasphemy,
He claims equality with God.

2 Behold the Man! by all condemned,
Assaulted by a host of foes;
His person and his claims contemned:
A Man of suffering and of woes.

3 Behold the Man! he stands alone,
His foes are ready to devour;
Not one of all his friends will own
Their Master in this trying hour.

4 Behold the Man! though scorned below,
He bears the greatest name above;
The angels at his footstool bow,
And all his royal claims approve.

172 L. M.
Darkness and light.

He dies, the friend of winners dies!
Lo! Salem’s daughters weep around!
A solemn darkness vails the skies,
A sudden trembling shakes the ground.

2 Here’s love and grief beyond degree!
The Lord of glory dies for men!
But, lo! what sudden joys we see—
Jesus the dead revives again!

3 The rising Lord forsakes the tomb!
(The tomb in vain forbids his rise!)
Cherubic legions guard him home,
And shout him welcome to the skies!

4 Break off your tears, you saints, and tell
How high our great Deliverer reigns;
Sing how he spoiled the hosts of hell,
And led the monster Death in chains.

5 Say, “Live for ever, wondrous King!
Born to redeem, and strong to save!”
Then ask the monster, “Where’s thy sting?
And where’s thy victory, boasting grave?”

173 C. M.
His condescension.

And did the holy and the just,
The Sovereign of the skies,
Stoop down to wretchedness and dust
That guilty man might rise?

2 Yes, the Redeemer left his throne,
His radiant throne on high;
Surpassing mercy! love unknown!
To suffer, bleed, and die.

3 He took the dying rebel’s place,
And suffered in our stead;
For sinful man, O wondrous grace!
For sinful man he bled!

4 O Lord! what heavenly wonders dwell
In thy most precious blood?
By this are sinners saved from hell,
And rebels brought to God.

174 C. M.
He conquered when he fell.

We sing the Saviour’s wondrous death—
He conquered when he fell:
’Tis finished, said his dying breath,
And shook the gates of hell.

2 ’Tis finished, our Immanuel cries,
The dreadful work is done;
Hence shall his sovereign throne arise,
His kingdom is begun.

3 His cross a sure foundation laid
For glory and renown,
When through the regions of the dead
He passed to reach the crown.

4 Raise your devotion, mortal tongues,
His praises to record;
Sweet be the accents of your songs
To your victorious Lord.

5 Bright angels, strike your loudest strings,
Your sweetest voices raise;
Let heaven and all created things
Sound our Immanuel’s praise!

175 C. M.
They nailed him to the cross.

Behold the Saviour of mankind
Nailed to the shameful tree!
How vast the love that him inclined
To bleed and die for me!

2 Hark! how he groans, while nature shakes,
And earth’s strong pillars bend!
The temple’s vail asunder breaks,
The solid marbles rend.

3 ’Tis finished! now the ransom’s paid,
“Receive my soul!” he cries:
See—how he bows his sacred head!
He bows his head and dies!

4 But soon from death he’ll rise again,
And in full glory shine;
O Lamb of God! was ever pain—
Was ever love like thine?

176 C. M.
The dying penitent.

As on the cross the Saviour hung,
And groaned, and bled, and died,
He looked with pity on a wretch
That languished by his side.

2 The dying thief in Jesus saw
A majesty divine;
While scoffing Jews around him stood,
And asked him for a sign!

3 The kingdom, Lord, is thine, he said;
’Tis thine o’er men to reign:
Thy wondrous works thy lordship prove,
These pains thy love proclaim:

4 Honors divine await thee soon,
A scepter and a crown:
With shame thy foes shall yet behold
Thee seated on a throne.

5 Then, gracious Lord, remember me!
Is not forgiveness thine?
My crimes have brought me to thy side—
Thy love brought thee to mine!

6 His prayer the dying Jesus hears,
And instantly replies,
To-day your parting soul shall be
With me in paradise.

177 7s & 6s.
Surely he hath borne our griefs.

O sacred head, now wounded,
With grief and shame weighed down—
O sacred brow, surrounded
With thorns, thine only crown:
Once on a throne of glory,
Adorned with light divine;
Now all despised and gory,
I joy to call thee mine.

2 On me, as thou art dying,
O, turn thy pitying eye;
To thee for mercy crying,
Before thy cross I lie.
Thine, thine the bitter passion;
Thy pain is all for me;
Mine, mine the deep transgression;
My sins are all on thee.

3 What language can I borrow
To praise thee, heavenly Friend,
For all this dying sorrow,
Of all my woes the end?
O, can I leave thee ever?
Then do not thou leave me;
Lord, let me never, never
Outlive my love to thee.

4 Be near when I am dying;
Then close beside me stand;
Let me, while faint and sighing,
Lean calmly on thy hand:
These eyes, new faith receiving,
From thee shall never move,
For he who dies believing,
Dies safely—in thy love.

178 8s, 7s & 4.
It is finished.
John 19:30.

Hark! the voice of love and mercy
Sounds aloud from Calvary;
See! it rends the rocks asunder,
Shakes the earth and vails the sky!
It is finished!
Hear the dying Saviour cry.

2 It is finished! O what pleasure
Do these precious words afford!
Heavenly blessings without measure
Flow to us from Christ the Lord;
It is finished!
Saints, the dying words record.

3 Finished all the types and shadows
Of the ceremonial law!
Finished all that God had promised;
Death and hell no more shall awe:
It is finished!
Saints, from this your comfort draw.

4 Tune your harps anew, you seraphs,
Join to sing the pleasing theme;
All on earth and all in heaven,
Join to praise Immanuel’s name:
Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding Lamb!

179 8s & 6s.
Behold the Lamb of God.
John 1:20.

The Son of Man they did betray;
He was condemned, and led away,
Think, O my soul, on that dread day,
Look on Mount Calvary;
Behold him, lamb-like, led along
Surrounded by a wicked throng,
Accused by every lying tongue,
And then the Lamb of God they hung
Upon the shameful tree.

2 Now, hung between the earth and skies,
Behold! in agony he dies;
O sinners, hear his mournful cries,
Come, see his torturing pain!
The morning sun withdrew his light,
Blushed, and refused to view the sight,
The azure clothed in robes of night,
All nature mourned, and stood affright,
When Christ the Lord was slain.

3 All glory be to God on high,
Who reigns enthroned above the sky;
Who sent his Son to bleed and die;
Glory to him be given:
While heaven above his praise resounds,
O Zion, sing—his grace abounds;
I hope to shout eternal rounds,
In flaming love that knows no bounds,
When glorified in heaven.

BURIAL AND RESURRECTION.

180 L. M.
He rose—according to the Scriptures.
1 Cor. 15:4.

When we the sacred grave survey,
In which the Saviour deigned to lie,
We see fulfilled what prophets say,
And all the power of death defy,

2 This empty tomb shall now proclaim
How weak the bands of conquered death;
Sure pledge that all who trust his name
Shall rise and draw immortal breath.

3 Our surety freed declares us free,
For whose offenses he was seized:
In his release our own we see,
And joy to see Jehovah pleased.

4 Jesus, once numbered with the dead,
Unseals his eyes to sleep no more;
And ever lives their cause to plead,
For whom the pains of death he bore.

5 Then, though in dust we lay our head,
Yet, gracious God, thou wilt not leave
Our flesh for ever with the dead,
Nor lose thy children in the grave!

181 L. M.
The joy that was set before him.
Heb. 12:2.

Now for a song of lofty praise
To great Jehovah’s only Son;
Awake, my voice, in heavenly lays,
And tell the wonders he hath done.

2 Sing how he left the worlds of light,
And those bright robes he wore above:
How swift and joyful was his flight,
On wings of everlasting love!

3 Deep in the shades of gloomy death,
Th’ almighty Captive prisoner lay;
Th’ almighty Captive left the earth,
And rose to everlasting day.

4 Among a thousand harps and songs,
Jesus, the Lord, exalted reigns:
His sacred name fills all their tongues,
And echoes through the heavenly plains.

182 C. M.
He hath begotten us to a lively hope.
1 Peter 1:3.

Blessed be the everlasting God,
The Father of our Lord;
Be his abounding mercy praised,
His majesty adored.

2 When from the dead he raised his Son,
And called him to the sky,
He gave our souls a lively hope
That they should never die.

3 What though the first man’s sin requires
Our flesh to see the dust;
Yet, as the Lord our Saviour rose,
So all his followers must.

4 There’s an inheritance divine,
Reserved against that day;
’Tis uncorrupted, undefiled,
And can not fade away!

5 Saints by the power of God are kept,
Till the salvation come;
We walk by faith as strangers here,
Till Christ shall take us home.

183 C. M.
Now is Christ risen from the dead.
1 Cor. 15:20.

Blest morning! whose young dawning rays
Beheld our rising Lord:
That saw him triumph o’er the dust,
And leave his dark abode.

2 In the cold prison of a tomb
The great Redeemer lay,
Till the revolving skies had brought
The third, th’ appointed day.

3 Hell and the grave unite their force
To hold our Lord, in vain;
The sleeping Conqueror arose,
And burst their feeble chain.

4 To thy great name, almighty Lord,
These sacred hours we pay;
And loud hosannas shall proclaim
The triumph of the day.

5 Salvation and immortal praise
To our victorious King!
Let heaven, and earth, and rocks, and seas,
With glad hosannas ring.

184 C. M.
The forsaken sepulcher.

Ye humble souls that seek the Lord,
Chase all your fears away;
And bow with reverence down, to see
The place where Jesus lay.

2 Thus low the Lord of life was brought;
Such wonders love can do!
Thus cold in death that bosom lay,
Which throbbed and bled for you.

3 If ye have wept at yonder cross,
And still your sorrows rise,
Stoop down and view the vanquished grave,
Then wipe your weeping eyes.

4 But dry your tears, and tune your songs,
The Saviour lives again;
Not all the bolts and bars of death
The Conqueror could detain.

5 High o’er the angelic band he rears
His once dishonored head;
And through unnumbered years he reigns,
Who dwelt among the dead.

185 C. M.
The Resurrection, and the Life.

Hosanna to the Prince of light,
That clothed himself in the clay,
Entered the iron gates of death,
And tore the bars away.

2 Death is no more the king of dread,
Since our Immanuel rose;
He took the tyrant’s sting away,
And spoiled our hellish foes.

3 Raise your devotion, mortal tongues,
To reach his blest abode;
Sweet be the accents of your songs
To our incarnate God.

4 Bright angels, strike your loudest strings,
Your sweetest voices raise,
Let heaven and all created things,
Sound our Immanuel’s praise.

186 C. H. M.
The Lord is risen.

How calm and beautiful the morn
That gilds the sacred tomb
Where once the Crucified was borne,
And vailed in midnight gloom!
Oh! weep no more the Saviour slain;
The Lord is risen—he lives again.

2 Ye mourning saints! dry every tear
For your departed Lord;
“Behold the place—he is not here;”
The tomb is all unbarred:
The gates of death were closed in vain,
The Lord is risen—he lives again.

3 Now cheerful to the house of prayer
Your early footsteps bend,
The Saviour will himself be there,
Your advocate and friend:
Once by the law your hopes were slain,
But now in Christ ye live again.

4 How tranquil now the rising day!
’Tis Jesus still appears,
A risen Lord to chase away
Your unbelieving fears:
O! weep no more your comforts slain;
The Lord is risen—he lives again.

5 And when the shades of evening fall,
When life’s last hour draws nigh—
If Jesus shine upon the soul,
How blissful then to die:
Since he has risen who once was slain,
Ye die in Christ to live again.

187 S. M.
Redemption completed.

“The Lord is risen indeed!”
Then is his work performed;
The mighty captive now is freed,
And death, our foe, disarmed.

2 “The Lord is risen indeed!”
He lives to die no more;
He lives, his people’s cause to plead,
Whose curse and shame he bore.

3 “The Lord is risen indeed!”
The grave has lost his prey:
With him is risen the ransomed seed,
To reign in endless day.

4 “The Lord is risen indeed!”—
Attending angels! hear;
Up to the courts of heaven with speed,
The joyful tidings bear.

5 Then wake your golden lyres,
And strike each cheerful chord;
Join, all ye bright, celestial choirs!
To sing our risen Lord.

188 H. M.
Thou reigning Son of God.

Yes, the Redeemer rose:
The Saviour left the dead,
And o’er his hellish foes
High raised his conquering head:
In wild dismay,
The guards around
Fall to the ground,
And sink away.

2 Lo! the angelic bands
In full assembly meet,
To wait his high commands,
And worship at his feet:
Joyful they come,
And wing their way
From realms of day
To Jesus’ tomb.

3 Then back to heaven they fly,
The joyful news to bear;
Hark! as they soar on high
What music fills the air:
Their anthems say,
Jesus who bled
Has left the dead—
He rose to-day!

4 You mortals, catch the sound,
Redeemed by him from hell,
And send the echo round
The globe on which you dwell:
Transported cry,
Jesus who bled
Has left the dead
No more to die!

5 All hail! triumphant Lord,
Who saved us by thy blood:
Wide be thy name adored,
Thou reigning Son of God!
With thee we rise,
With thee we reign,
And kingdoms gain
Beyond the skies.

189 7s.
The stone rolled away.

Angels! roll the rock away;
Death! yield up thy mighty prey;
See! the Saviour leaves the tomb,
Glowing with immortal bloom.

2 Hark! the wondering angels raise
Louder notes of joyful praise:
Let the earth’s remotest bound
Echo with the blissful sound.

3 Now, ye saints! lift up your eyes,
See him high in glory rise!
Ranks of angels, on the road,
Hail him—the incarnate God.

4 Heaven unfolds its portals wide,
See the Conqueror through them ride!
King of glory! mount thy throne—
Boundless empire is thine own.

5 Praise him, ye celestial choirs!
Tune, and sweep your golden lyres:
Raise, O earth! your noblest songs,
From ten thousand thousand tongues.

190 7s.
Christ, the first fruits.

Christ, the Lord, is risen to-day!
Sons of men and angels say:
Raise your joys and triumphs high:
Sing ye heavens! thou earth reply!

2 Love’s redeeming work is done,
Fought the fight, the battle won:
Lo! our Sun’s eclipse is o’er;
Lo! he sets in blood no more.

3 Vain the stone, the watch, the seal—
Christ hath burst the gates of hell;
Death in vain forbids his rise,
Christ hath opened paradise.

4 Lives again our glorious King!
Where, O Death, is now thy sting?
Once he died, our souls to save:
Where’s thy victory, boasting grave?

5 Soar we now where Christ hath led,
Following our exalted Head:
Made like him, like him we rise,
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies!

6 King of glory, Fount of bliss,
Everlasting life is this:
Thee to know, thy power to prove,
Thus to sing, and thus to love.

191 7s.
The Resurrection.

Morning breaks upon the tomb,
Jesus scatters all its gloom;
Day of triumph through the skies—
See the glorious Saviour rise!

2 Ye who are of death afraid,
Triumph in the scattered shade;
Drive your anxious cares away;
See the place where Jesus lay!

3 Christian! dry your flowing tears,
Chase your unbelieving fears;
Look on his deserted grave;
Doubt no more his power to save.

192 7s, double.
Mary at the tomb.

Mary to the Saviour’s tomb
Hasted at the early dawn;
Spice she brought, and sweet perfume,
But the Lord she loved had gone:
For a while she lingering stood,
Filled with sorrow and surprise;
Trembling, while a crystal flood
Issued from her weeping eyes.

2 Jesus who is always near,
Though too often unperceived,
Came her drooping heart to cheer,
Kindly asking why she grieved:
Though at first she knew him not,
When he called her by her name,
She her heavy griefs forgot,
For she found him still the same.

3 And her sorrows, quickly fled,
When she heard his welcome voice;
Christ had risen from the dead,
Now he bids her heart rejoice:
What a change his word can make—
Turning darkness into day;
You who weep for Jesus’ sake,
He will wipe your tears away.

193 8s.
He hath abolished death.
2 Tim. 1:10.

The angels that watched round the tomb
Where low the Redeemer was laid,
When deep in mortality’s gloom
He hid for a season his head;

2 That vailed their fair face while he slept,
And ceased their sweet harps to employ,
Have witnessed his rising, and swept
The chords with the triumphs of joy.

3 You saints, who once languished below,
But long since have entered your rest,
I pant to be glorified too,
To lean on Immanuel’s breast.

4 The grave in which Jesus was laid
Has buried my guilt and my fears;
And while I contemplate its shade,
The light of his presence appears.

5 O sweet is the season of rest,
When life’s weary journey is done!
The blush that spreads over its west,
The last lingering ray of its sun!

6 Though dreary the empire of night,
I soon shall emerge from its gloom,
And see immortality’s light
Arise on the shades of the tomb.

7 Then welcome the last rending sighs,
When these aching heartstrings shall break,
When death shall extinguish these eyes,
And moisten with dew the pale cheek.

8 No terror the prospect begets,
I am not mortality’s slave,
The sunbeam of life as it sets,
Paints a rainbow of peace on the grave.

194 8s.
The darkness is passed, etc.
1 John 2:8.

Behold, the bright morning appears,
And Jesus revives from the grave;
His rising removes all our fears,
And shows him almighty to save.

2 How strong were his tears and his cries,
The worth of his blood, how divine!
How perfect was his sacrifice,
Who rose though he suffered for sin.

3 The man that was crownéd with thorns,
The man that on Calvary died,
The man that bore scourging and scorns,
Whom sinners agreed to deride—

4 Now blesséd for ever is made,
And life has rewarded his pain,
Now glory has crownéd his head;
Heaven sings of the Lamb that was slain.

3 Believing, we share in his joy;
By faith, we partake in his rest;
With this we can cheerfully die,
For with him we hope to be blest.

THE ASCENSION.

195 L. M.
Lift up your heads, ye gates.
Psalm 24:7.

Our Lord is risen from the dead,
Our Jesus is gone up on high;
The powers of hell are captive led,
Dragged to the portals of the sky.

2 There his triumphal chariot waits,
And angels chant the solemn lay;
Lift up your heads, you heavenly gates!
You everlasting doors give way!

3 Loose all your bars of massy light,
And wide unfold the radiant scene!
He claims those mansions as his right—
Receive the King of glory in!

4 Who is the King of glory?—Who?
The Lord, who all his foes o’ercame;
The world, sin, death, and hell o’erthrew,
And Jesus is the conqueror’s name.

5 Lo! his triumphal chariot waits,
And angels chant the solemn lay:
Lift up your heads, you heavenly gates!
You everlasting doors, give way!

6 Who is the King of glory?—who?
The Lord, of boundless might possessed,
The King of saints and angels too,
Lord over all, for ever blest.

196 L. M.
The Lord of hosts, he is the King of glory.
Psalm 24.

Lift up your heads, ye gates! and wide
Your everlasting doors display;
Ye angel-guards, like flames divide,
And give the King of glory way.

2 Who is the King of glory?—he,
The Lord omnipotent to save;
Whose own right arm, in victory,
Led captive death, and spoiled the grave.

3 Lift up your heads, ye gates! and high
Your everlasting portals heave;
Welcome the King of glory nigh:
Him must the heaven of heavens receive.

4 Who is the King of glory—who?
The Lord of hosts; behold his name!
The kingdom, power, and honor due,
Yield him, ye saints, with glad acclaim!

197 C. M,
Psalm 24.

Lift up your stately heads, ye doors,
With hasty reverence rise,
Ye everlasting doors that guard
The passage to the skies.

Chorus.—For see, for see
The King of glory comes,
The King of glory comes
Along the eternal road.

2 Swift from your golden hinges leap,
Your barriers roll away,
And throw your blazing portals wide,
And burst the gates of day.

198 C. M.
Received up into glory.
1 Tim. 3:16.

Triumphant, Christ ascends on high,
The glorious work complete;
Sin, death, and hell, now vanquished lie
Beneath his awful feet.

2 There, with eternal glory crowned,
The Lord, the Conqueror reigns;
His praise the heavenly choirs resound,
In their immortal strains.

3 Amid the splendors of his throne,
Unchanging love appears;
The names he purchased for his own,
Still on his heart he bears.

4 O, the rich depths of love divine!
Of bliss a boundless store:
Dear Saviour, let me call thee mine;
I can not wish for more.

5 On thee alone, my hope relies;
Beneath thy cross I fall,
My Lord, my Life, my Sacrifice,
My Saviour, and my All.

199 C. M.
God is gone up with a shout.
Psalm 47:5.

Arise, ye people, and adore,
Exulting strike the chord;
Let all the earth, from shore to shore,
Confess th’ almighty Lord.

2 Glad shouts aloud—wide echoing round,
Th’ ascending Lord proclaim;
The angelic choir respond the sound,
And shake creation’s frame.

3 They sing of death and hell o’erthrown
In that triumphant hour;
And God exalts his conquering Son
To his right hand of power.

4 O shout, ye people, and adore,
Exulting strike the chord;
Let all the earth, from shore to shore,
Confess th’ almighty Lord.

200 6s & 10s.
He became obedient unto death.
Phil. 2:8.

Thou, who didst stoop below
To drain the cup of woe,
And wear the form of frail mortality,
Thy blesséd labors done,
Thy crown of victory won,
Hast passed from earth—passed to thy home on high.

2 It was no path of flowers,
Through this dark world of ours,
Belovéd of the Father! thou didst tread;
And shall we in dismay
Shrink from the narrow way,
When clouds and darkness are around it spread.

3 O thou who art our Life,
Be with us through the strife;
Thy own meek head with rudest storms was bowed!
Raise thou our eyes above
To see a Father’s love
Beam, like the bow of promise, through the cloud.

4 E’en through the awful gloom
Which hovers o’er the tomb,
That light of love our guiding star shall be;
Our spirits shall not dread
The shadowy way to tread,
Friend, Guardian, Saviour! which doth lead to thee.

201 6s & 4s.
Rule thou, in the midst of thine enemies.
Psalm 110:2.

Rise, glorious Conqueror, rise
Into thy native skies—
Assume thy right;
And where in many a fold,
The clouds are backward rolled—
Pass through those gates of gold,
And reign in light!

2 Victor o’er death and hell!
Cherubic legions swell
The radiant train;
Praises all heaven inspire,
Each angel sweeps his lyre,
And waves his wings of fire,
Thou Lamb once slain!

3 Enter, incarnate God!
No feet but thine have trod
The serpent down:
Blow the full trumpets, blow!
Wider yon portals throw!
Saviour, triumphant, go
And take thy crown!

4 Lion of Judah—hail!
And let thy name prevail
From age to age:
Lord of the rolling years—
Claim for thine own the spheres,
For thou hast bought with tears
Thy heritage.

202 7s, 6s & 7s.
Psalm 45.

Burst, ye emerald gates, and bring
To my raptured vision
All the ecstatic joys that spring
Round the bright elysian;
Lo! we lift our longing eyes!
Break, ye intervening skies!
Sons of righteousness, arise,
Ope the gates of paradise.

2 Floods of everlasting light
Freely flash before him;
Myriads, with supreme delight,
Instantly adore him
Angelic trumps resound his fame;
Lutes of lucid gold proclaim
All the music of his name;
Heaven resounding with the theme.

3 Hark! the thrilling symphonies
Seem, methinks, to seize us;
Join we too the holy lays—
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!
Sweetest sound in seraph’s song,
Sweetest note on mortal tongue,
Sweetest carol ever sung—
Jesus, Jesus, flow along.

THE CORONATION.

203 C. M.

All hail the power of Jesus’ name!
Let angels prostrate fall;
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown him Lord of all.

2 Crown him, you martyrs of our God,
Who from his altar call;
Extol the stem of Jesse’s rod,
And crown him Lord of all.

3 You chosen seed of Israel’s race,
A remnant weak and small,
Hail him who saves you by his grace,
And crown him Lord of all.

4 You gentle sinners, ne’er forget
The wormwood and the gall;
Go, spread your trophies at his feet,
And crown him Lord of all.

5 Babes, men, and sires, who know his love,
Who feel your sin and thrall,
Now join with all the hosts above,
And crown him Lord of all.

6 Let every kindred, every tribe,
On this terrestrial ball,
To him all majesty ascribe,
And crown him Lord of all.

7 O that with yonder sacred throng
We at his feet may fall!
We’ll join the everlasting song,
And crown him Lord of all.

204 C. M.
Sit thou at my right hand.
Psalm 110:1.

Jesus, our Lord, ascend thy throne,
And near thy Father sit:
In Zion shall thy power be known,
And make thy foes submit.

2 What wonders shall thy gospel do!
Thy converts shall surpass
The numerous drops of morning dew,
And own thy saving grace.

3 Jesus, our Priest, for ever lives
To plead for us above;
Jesus, our King, for ever gives
The blessings of his love.

4 God shall exalt his glorious head,
And his high throne maintain;
Shall strike the powers and princes dead,
Who dare oppose his reign.

205 8s & 7s.
Thou art worthy.

Crown his head with endless blessing,
Who, in God the Father’s name,
With compassion never ceasing,
Comes, salvation to proclaim.

2 Jesus, thee our Saviour hailing,
Thee our God in praise we own;
Highest honors, never failing,
Rise eternal round thy throne.

3 Now, ye saints, his power confessing,
In your grateful strains adore;
For his mercy, never ceasing,
Flows, and flows for evermore.

206 C. M.
Worthy the Lamb.

Come, let us join our cheerful songs
With angels round the throne;
Ten thousand thousand are their tongues,
But all their joys are one.

2 Worthy the Lamb that died, they cry,
To be exalted thus!
Worthy the Lamb, our lips reply,
For he was slain for us!

3 Jesus is worthy to receive
Honor and power divine;
And blessings more than we can give,
Be, Lord, for ever thine.

4 Let all who dwell above the sky,
On earth, in air, and seas,
Conspire to lift thy glories high,
And speak thy endless praise.

5 The whole creation join in one,
To bless the sacred name
Of him that sits upon the throne,
And to adore the Lamb.

207 8s, 7s & 4.
King of kings, etc.
Rev. 19:16.