1 Here at thy Cross, my dying God,
I lay my Soul beneath thy Love,
Beneath the Droppings of thy Blood,
Jesus, nor shall it e'er remove.
2 Not all that Tyrants think or say,
With Rage and Lightning in their Eyes,
Nor Hell shall fright my Heart away,
Should Hell with all its Legions rise.
3 Should worlds conspire to drive me thence,
Moveless and firm this Heart should lie;
Resolv'd (for that's my last Defence)
If I must perish, there to die.
4 But speak, my Lord, and calm my Fear;
Am I not safe beneath thy Shade?
Thy Vengeance will not strike me here,
Nor Satan dares my Soul invade.
5 Yes, I'm secure beneath thy Blood,
And all my Foes shall lose their Aim:
Hosanna to my dying God,
And my best Honours to his Name.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Here at thy Cross, my dying God |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1766 |
Topic: | Constance in the Gospel; Courage and Constancy; Salvation in the Cross of Christ(1 more...) |