Hymnal: Hymnal #75 (1871) Hymnal Title: Hymnal Lyrics: 1 Now, my soul, thy voice upraising,
Tell in sweet and mournful strain,
How the Crucified enduring
Grief, and wounds, and dying pain,
Freely of His love was offered,
Sinless was for sinners slain.
2 Scourged with unrelenting fury,
For the sins which we deplore,
By His livid Stripes He heals us,
Raising us to fall no more;
All our bruises gently soothing,
Binding up the bleeding sore.
3 See! His Hands and Feet are fastened;
So He makes His people free;
Not a wound whence Blood is flowing
But a fount of grace shall be;
Yea the very nails which nail Him
Nail us also to the Tree.
4 Through His Heart the spear is piercing,
Though His foes have seen Him die;
Blood and Water thence are streaming
In a tide of mystery,
Water from our guilt to cleanse us,
Blood to win us crowns on high.
5 Jesu, may those precious Fountains
Drink to thirsting souls afford:
Let them be our Cup and Healing,
And at length our full Reward;
So a ransomed world shall ever
Praise Thee its redeeming Lord. Topics: Passion Week Languages: English
Now, my soul, thy voice upraising
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