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WARNER. L. M.
1. O'er the dark wave of Galilee The gloom of twilight gathers fast,
227. L. M.
2. The weary bird hath left the air,
And sunk into his sheltered nest;
the wa-ters dreari ly Descends the fit ful evening blast.
3. Still near the lake, with weary tread,
4. Why seeks He not a home of rest?
Why seeks He not a pillowed bed? Beasts have their dens, the bird its nest; He hath not where to lay His head.
6. Such was the lot He freely chose,
To bless. to save the human race;
2. Hark! from the midnight hills around,
Wild murmuring o'er the raptured soul.
3. On wheels of light, on wings of flame,
228. L. M.
1. WHEN Jordan hushed his waters still,
4. "O Zion, lift thy raptured eye;
5. "See, Mercy, from her golden urn,
Pours a rich stream to them that mourn;
6. He comes to cheer the trembling heart;
229. L. M.
1. How sweetly flowed the gospel sound
2. From heaven He came, of heaven He spoke
"Come, wanderers, to my Father's home;
Obey Thee, love Thee, and be blest.
4. Decay, then, tenements of dust;
Pillars of earthly pride. decay:
BRENTFORD. L. M.
1. How beauteous were the marks divine, That in Thy meekness used to shine; That
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In won-drous love, 0 Son of God!
3. Lord, bring these precious moments back,
4. In weakness, help us to contend;
In darkness, yield to God our will;
232. L. M.
1. HAVE we no tears to shed for Him,
2. What was Thy crime, my dearest Lord?
3. Found guilty of excess of love,
was Thine own sweet will that tied Thee tighter far than helpless nails; Jesus, our Love, is crucified!
4. O break, O break, hard heart of mine!
5. A broken heart, a fount of tears-
WILLIAMS. L. M.
1. When I survey
the wondrous cross, On which the Prince of Glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all
1. WHEN I survey the wondrous cross,
2. Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ, my 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 thorus compose so rich a crown?
4. Were the whole realm of nature mine,
234. L. M.
1. RIDE on, ride on in majesty!
Arranged from Templi Carmina.
2. Ride on, ride on in majesty !
In lowly pomp ride on to die!
3. Ride on, ride on in majesty !
The winged squadrons of the sky
Look down with sad and wondering eyes, To see the approaching sacrifice.
4. Ride on, ride on in majesty!
Thy last and fiercest strife is nigh;
235. L. M.
1. HE dies!-the friend of sinners dies; Lo! Salem's daughters weep around; A solemn darkness veils the skies;
A sudden trembling shakes the ground.
2. Here's love and grief beyond degree; The Lord of glory dies for men; But lo! what sudden joys we see! Jesus, the dead, revives again.
3. The rising God forsakes the tomb;
Up to His Father's court He flies;
And shout Him welcome to the skies.
Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell
5. Say-live forever, glorious King,
Born to redeem, and strong to save! Where now, O Death, where is thy sting? And where thy victory, boasting Grave?
GETHSEMANE. L. M.
1. 'Tis midnight, and on Olive's brow, The star is dimm'd that lately shone; 'Tis midnight, in the
garden now The suffering Saviour prays a-lone, The suffering Saviour prays a lone.
239. L. M.
2. 'Tis midnight—and, from all removed, Immanuel wrestles lone, with fears; E'en the disciple that he loved
Heeds not his Master's grief and tears.
3. 'T is midnight-and, for others' guilt,
The Man of sorrows weeps in blood;
4. T is midnight-and, from ether-plains, Is borne the song that angels know; Unheard by mortals are the strains
That sweetly soothe the Saviour's woe.
240. L. M.
1. BEHOLD the Man! how glorious He! Before His foes He stands unaw'd, And, without wrong or blasphemy, He claims equality with God.
2. Behold the Man! by all condemn'd,
3. Behold the Man! He stands alone, His foes are ready to devour; Not one of all His friends will own Their Master in this trying hour.
Arranged by CH. BEECHER.
4. Behold the Man! though scorn'd below, He bears the greatest name above; The angels at His footstool bow,
And all His royal claims approve.
3. The scourge, the Thorns, the deep disgraceThese Thou could'st bear, nor once repine; But when Jehovah veiled His face, Unutterable pangs were Thine.
1. 'Tis finished!-so the Saviour cried, And meekly bowed His head, and died; 'Tis finished!-yes, the race is run, The battle fought, the vict'ry won
2. "Tis finished!-let the joyful sound Be heard through all the nations round: "T is finished!-let the echo fly, Through heaven and hell, through earth and sky