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Faith in a Redeemer's Sufferings

Hymnal: PSCD_v1 #178 (1760) First Line: Lord, when my thoughts delighted rove Lyrics: I. Lord, when my thoughts delighted rove Amid the wonders of thy love, Sweet hope revives my drooping heart, And bids intruding fears depart. II. But while thy suff'rings I survey, And faith enjoys a heav'nly ray, These dear memorials of thy pain, Present anew the dreadful scene. III. I hear thy groans with deep surprize, And view thy wounds with weeping eyes, Each bleeding wound, each dying groan, With anguish fraught, and pains unknown. IV. For mortal crimes a sacrifice, The Lord of life, the Saviour dies: What love, what mercy, how divine!— Jesus, and can I call thee mine?— V. Repentant sorrow fills my heart, But mingling joy allays the smart O may my future life declare The sorrow and the joy sincere. VI. Be all my heart, and all my days Devoted to my Saviour's praise; And let my glad obedience prove How much I owe, how much I love. Languages: English

A Dying Saviour

Hymnal: PSCD_v1 #179 (1760) First Line: Stretche'd on the cross the Saviour dues; Lyrics: I. Stretch'd on the cross, the Saviour dies; Hark! his expiring groans arise! See, from his hands, his feet, his side, Runs down the sacred crimson tide! II. But life attends the deathful sound, And flows from ev'ry bleeding wound; The vital stream, how free it flows, To save and cleanse his rebel foes! III. To suffer in the traitor's place, To die for man, surprizing grace! Yet pass rebellious angels by— O why for man, dear Saviour, why? IV. And didst thou bleed, for sinners bleed? And could the sun behold the deed? No, he withdrew his sick'ning ray, And darkness veil'd the mourning day. V. Can I survey this scene of woe, Where mingling grief and wonder flow; And yet my heart unmov'd remain, Insensible to love or pain! VI. Come, dearest Lord, thy pow'r impart, To warm this cold, this stupid heart; Till all its pow'rs and passions move, In melting grief and ardent love. Languages: English

Meditating on the Redeemer's Sufferings

Hymnal: PSCD_v1 #181 (1760) First Line: Recall, my heart, that dreadful hour Lyrics: I. Recall, my heart, that dreadful hour, When Jesus on the cursed tree Infinite pains and sorrows bore— Think, O my soul, was this for thee? II. See, crown'd with thorns that sacred head, With beams of glory once adorn'd! That voice, which heav'n and earth obey'd, Is now by traitors mock'd and scorn'd. III. And see those lovely melting eyes, Whence kind compassion often flow'd, Now rais'd imploring to the skies, For harden'd souls athirst for blood! IV. Those healing hands with blessings fraught, Nail'd to the cross with pungent smart! Inhuman deed! could no kind thought To pity move the ruthless heart? V. But oh! what agonies unknown, His soul sustain'd beneath the load Of mortal crimes! how deep the groan Which calm'd the vengeance of a God! VI. He groan'd! he dy'd! the awful scene Of wonder, grief, surprizing love, Forever let my heart retain, Nor from my Saviour's feet remove. VII. Jesus, accept this wretched heart, Which trembling, mourning, comes to thee; The blessing of thy death impart, And tell my soul, 'tis all for me. Languages: English

Sin the Cause of Christ's Death

Hymnal: PSCD_v1 #182 (1760) First Line: Was it for sin, for mortal Lyrics: I. Was it for sin, for mortal guilt, The Saviour gave his vital blood? For sin amazing anguish felt, The wrath of an offended God? II. When bleeding, groaning, on the tree, He breath'd such agonizing cries, When nature suffer'd, Lord, with thee, And darkness cloath'd the mourning skies. III. And shall I harbour in my breast (Tremble my soul at such a deed) This dreadful foe, this fatal guest? 'Twas sin that made my Saviour bleed. IV. 'Tis sin that would my ruin prove, And sink me down to endless woe; But O forbid it, heav'nly love, And save me from the cursed foe. V. Ye sins, ye cruel sins, depart, Your tyrant sway I cannot bear; My rightful sov'reign claims my heart, Jesus alone shall govern here. VI. Come, glorious conqu'ror, gracious Lord, Thy all-prevailing pow'r employ; O come, with thy resistless word, These hateful enemies destroy. VII. Guilty and weak to thee I fly, My Lord, my Saviour, and my friend, On thy almighty arm rely, On thy atoning blood depend. VIII. My all of hope is fix'd on thee, For thou alone hast pow'r divine; O come, and conquer, Lord, for me, And all the glory shall be thine. Languages: English

Christ Dying and Rising

Hymnal: PSCD_v1 #184 (1760) First Line: Come tune, ye saints, your noblest strains Lyrics: I. Come tune, ye saints, your noblest strains, Your dying, rising Lord to sing, And echo to the heav'nly plains The triumphs of your Saviour-King. II. In songs of grateful reapture tell How he subdu'd your potent foes, Subdu'd the pow'rs of death and hell, And, dying, finish'd all your woes. III. Then to his glorious throne on high Return'd, while hymning angels round, Thro' the bright arches of the sky, The God, the conqu'ring God, resound. IV. Almighty love! victorious pow'r! Not angel-tongues can e'er display The wonders of that dreadful hour, The joys of that illustrious day. V. Then well may mortals try in vain, In vain their feeble voices raise; Yet Jesus hears the humble strain, And kindly owns our wish to praise. VI. Dear Saviour, let thy wond'rous grace Fill ev'ry heart and ev'ry tongue, Till the full glories of thy face Inspire a sweeter, nobler song. Languages: English