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4 Mercy, good Lord ! mercy we seek :

This is the total sum ;
For mercy, Lord, is all our prayer:

Oh ! let Thy mercy come!
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1

ORD, when we bend before Thy throne,

C. M.

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Teach us to feel the sins we own,

And shun what we deplore.
2 Our broken spirits, pitying see;

True penitence impart ;
Then let a brightening ray 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,

That is not wholly Thine.
4 May faith each weak petition fill,

Ănd waft it to the skies ;
And teach our hearts ’tis goodness still

That grants it, or denies !
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1 0 ,

Though all my sins before Thee lie,
Behold them not with angry look,

But blot their memory from Thy book.
2 Create my nature pure within,

And form my soul averse to sin :
Let Thy good Spirit ne’er depart,
Nor hide Thy presence from my heart.

L, M,

3 My soul lies humbled in the dust,

And owns Thy dreadful sentence just ;
Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye,

And save the soul condemned to die.
4 Then will I teach the world Thy ways ;

Sinners shall learn Thy sovereign grace ;
I'll lead them to

my

Saviour's blood,
And they shall praise a pardoning God.

35

8. 7s.

SAVI

1 CAVIOUR! when in dust to Thee

Low we bow the adoring knee,
When, repentant, to the skies
Scarce we lift our streaming eyes,
O by all Thy pain and woe
Suffered once for man below,
Bending from Thy throne on high,

Hear our solemn Litany!
2 By Thy helpless infant years,

By Thy life of want and tears,
By Thy fasting and distress
In the
savage

wilderness,
By the dread mysterious hour
of the insulting tempter's power ;
Turn, O turn a favouring eye,

Hear our solemn Litany!
3 By Thy deep expiring groan,

By the sad sepulchral stone,
By the vault whose dark abode
Held in vain the rising God!

Oh, from earth to heaven restored,
Mighty re-ascended Lord,
Listen, listen to the cry
Of our solemn Litany!

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P. M.

1
ROCK

OCK of Ages ! cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in Thee ;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,

Cleanse me from its guilt and power !
2 Not the labours of mine hands

Can fulfil Thy law's demands :
Could

my

zeal no respite know,
Could my tears for ever flow,
All for sin could not atone ;-
Thou must save, and Thou alone.

3 Nothing in my hand I bring,

Simply to Thy Cross I cling ;
Naked, come to Thee for dress,
Helpless, look to Thee for grace ;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;

Wash me, Saviour, or I die !
4 While I draw this fleeting breath,

When my eyelids close in death,
When I soar to worlds unknown,
See Thee on Thy judgment throne
Rock of Ages ! cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee !

78

GOOD FRIDAY.

37

L. M.

my

1

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 Cross of Christ 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 !
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 an offering far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

.

38

C. M.

10

1 SAVIOUR, whose redeeming love

Delivered us from death,
Look down upon us from above,

And raise our drooping faith!
2 Whilst we reinember Thou hast borne
Our sins

upon

the tree,
Teach us, with contrite hearts, to mourn

Our deep iniquity.

3 All we, like sheep, have gone astray,

Yet let Thy Cross prevail,
To turn the sinner from his

way,
And all our woes to heal.
4 And when, in sorrow and distress,

To Thee we lift our eyes,
Saviour, be Thou our Righteousness,

Our perfect sacrifice !

L. M.

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1 WE sing the praise of Him who dicd,

Of Him who died upon the Cross ;
The sinner's hope let men deride,

For this we count the world but loss.
2 Inscribed upon the Cross we see,

In shining letters, God is love :
He bears our sins upon the tree,

He brings us mercy from above.
3 The Cross ! it takes our guilt away;

It holds the fainting spirit up;
It cheers with hope the gloomy day,
And sweetens every

bitter

cup:
4 It makes the coward spirit brave,

And nerves the feeble arm for fight :
It takes its terror from the grave,

And gilds the bed of death with light :
5 The balm of life, the cure of woe,

The measure and the pledge of love,
The sinner's refuge here below,

The angels' theme in heaven above.

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