LXXXVI. Now let our Lips with holy Fear

1 Now let our Lips with holy Fear
And mournful Pleasure sing
The Suff'rings of our great High-Priest,
the Sorrows of our King.
2 He sinks in Floods of deep Distress;
how high the Waters rise!
While to his heav'nly Father's Ear
he sends perpetual Cries.

3 "Hear me, O Lord, and save thy Son,
"nor hide thy shining Face;
"Why should thy Favourite look like one
"forsaken of thy Grace?
4 "With Rage they persecute the Man
"that groans Beneath thy Wound,
"While for a Sacrifice I pour
"my Life upon the Ground.

5 "They tread my Honour to the Dust,
"and laugh when I complain;
"Their sharp insulting Slanders add
"fresh Anguish to my Pain.
6 "All my Reproach is known to Thee,
"the Scandal and the Shame;
"Reproach has broke my bleeding Heart,
"and Lies defil'd my Name.

7 "I lookt for Pity, but in vain;
"my Kindred are my Grief:
"I ask my Friends for Comfort round,
"but meet with no Relief.
8 "With Vinegar they mock my Thirst,
"they give me Gall for Food;
"And sporting with my dying Groans,
"they triumph in my Blood.

9 "Shine into my distressed Soul,
"let thy Compassion save;
"And tho' my Flesh sink down to Death,
"redeem it from the Grave.
10 "I shall arise to praise thy Name,
"shall reign in Worlds unknown;
"And thy Salvation, O my God,
"shall seat me on thy Throne.

Text Information
First Line: Now let our Lips with holy Fear
Language: English
Publication Date: 1765
Scripture: ;
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