1 Behold the Saviour on the cross, A spectacle of woe!

See from his agonizing wounds The blood incessant flow;

2 Till death's pale ensigns o'er his cheek And trembling lips were spread; Till light forsook his closing eyes, And life his drooping head.

3 'Tis finished--the Messiah dies For sins, but not his own; The great redemption is complete, And death is overthrown.

4 'Tis finished--ritual worship ends, And Gospel ages run; All old things now are past away, A new world is begun.

232. L. M. Steele.

A Dying Saviour.

1 Stretched on the cross, the Saviour dies, Hark! his expiring groans arise; See, from his hands, his feet, his side, Descends the sacred, crimson tide.

2 And didst thou bleed?--for sinners bleed?

And could the sun behold the deed?

No; he withdrew his cheering ray, And darkness veiled the mourning day.

3 Can I survey this scene of woe, Where mingling grief and mercy flow, And yet my heart so hard remain,-- Unmoved by either love or pain!

4 Come, dearest Lord, thy grace impart, To warm this cold, this stupid heart, Till all its powers and pa.s.sions move, In melting grief and ardent love.

233. L. M. Stennett.

Christ Suffering on the Cross.

1 "'T is finished!"--so the Saviour cried, And meekly bowed his head and died: "'T is finished!"--yes, the race is run, The battle fought, the victory won.

2 "'T is finished!"--all that heaven foretold By prophets in the days of old; And truths are opened to our view, That kings and prophets never knew.

3 "'T is finished!"--Son of G.o.d, thy power Hath triumphed in this awful hour; And yet our eyes with sorrow see That life to us was death to thee.

4 "'T is finished!"--let the joyful sound Be heard through all the nations round; "'Tis finished!"--let the triumph rise, And swell the chorus of the skies.

234. L. M. Watts.

Christ's Death and Resurrection.

1 He dies! the Friend of sinners dies!

Lo, Salem's daughters weep around!

A solemn darkness veils the skies!

A sudden trembling shakes the ground!

2 Come, saints, and drop a tear or two For him who groaned beneath your load!

He shed a thousand drops for you-- A thousand drops of richest blood!

3 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!

4 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!

235. 7s. M. Gibbons.

Christ's Resurrection.

1 Angels, roll the rock away; Death, yield up thy mighty prey; See! he rises from the tomb, Glowing with immortal bloom.

2 'T is the Saviour! Angels, raise Fame's eternal trump of praise; Let the earth's remotest bound Hear the joy-inspiring sound.

3 Now, ye saints, lift up your eyes; Now to glory see him rise In long triumph up the sky-- Up to waiting worlds on high.

4 Praise him, all ye heavenly choirs, Praise, and sweep your golden lyres; Shout, O earth, in rapturous song; Let the strains be sweet and strong.

5 Every note with wonder swell,-- And the Saviour's triumph tell; Where, O death, is now thy sting?

Where thy terrors, vanquished king?

236. 7s. M. Collyer.

The Same.

1 Morning breaks upon the tomb!

Jesus dissipates its gloom!

Day of triumph through the skies, See the glorious Saviour rise!

2 Christians, dry your flowing tears; Chase those unbelieving fears; Look on his deserted grave; Doubt no more his power to save.

3 Ye who are of death afraid, Triumph in the scattered shade; Drive your anxious fears away; See the place where Jesus lay.