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Believe, believe the record true,

Ye all are bought with Jesu's blood:
Pardon for all flows from his side:

My Lord, my Love, is crucify'd.
4. Then let us sit beneath his cross,

And gladly catch the healing stream:
All things for him account but loss,

And give up all our hearts to him.
Of nothing think or speak, beside:
My Lord, my Love, is crucify'd.

Hymn 49, 1. M.
1. n Fhim who did salvation bring

I could for ever think and sing;
Arise, ye guilty, he'll forgive;

Arise, ye needy, he'll relieve.
2. Ask but his grace, and lo, 'tis giv'n;

Ask, and he turns your hell to heav'n;
Tho' sin and sorrow wound my soul,

Jesus, thy balm will make it whole.
3. To shame our sins he blush'd in blood,

He clos'd his eyes to shew us God. · Let all the world fall down and know,

That none but God such love can show. . 4. 'Tis thee I love, for thee alone

I shed my tears and make my moan;
Where'er I am, where'er I move,

I meet the object of my love. $. Insatiate to this spring I Hy;

I drink, and yet am ever dry;
Ah! who against thy charms is proof?
Ah! who that loves, can love enough?

Hymn 50. P. M. 1. ALL ye that by, to Jesus draw nigh;

To you is it nothing that Jesus should die? Your ransom and peace, your surety he is,

Come see if there ever was sorrow like his. , 2. For what you have done, his blood must atone;

The Father hath punish'd, for you, his dear Son:
The Lord, in the day of his anger, did lay

Your sins on the Lamb, and he bore them away. 3. He answer'd for all, O come at his call, · And low, at his cross, with astonishment fall,

But lift up your eyes, to Jesus's cries,

Impassive he suffers, immortal he dies. 4. He dies to atone for sins not his own,

Your debt he hath paid, and your work he hath done:
Ye all may receive the peace he did leave,

Who made intercession : “My Father, forgive !'s - 5. For you and for me he pray'd on the tree;

His prayer is accepted, the sinner is free.
The sinner am I-on Christ I rely,

And come for the pardon, God cannot deny. 6. My pardon I claim; a sinner I am, .

A sinner believing in Jesus's name :
He purchas'd the grace, which now I ernbrace:

O Father, thou know'st he hath dy'd in my place! -7. His death is my plea, my advocate see,

And hearthe blood speak that hath answer'd for me
Acquitted I was, when he bled on the cross :
By losing his life he hath carry'd my cause.

Hymn 51. L. M.
1. LTE dies, the Friend of sinners dies !

11 Lo! Salem's daughters weep around ;
A solemn darkness veils the skies!

A sudden trembling shakes the ground!
Comc, saints, and drop a tear or two

For him who groan'd beneath your load :
He shed a thousand drops for you,

A thousand drops of richer blood.,

2. Here's love and grief beyond degree,

The Lord of glory dies for man !
But lo! what sudden joys we see;

Jesus, the dead, revives again!
The rising God forsakes the tomb :

(In vain the tomb forbids his rise)
Cherubic legions guard him home,

And shout him welcome to the skies. 3. Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell,

How high your great deliv'rer reigns;
Sing how he spoil'd the hosts of hell,

And led the monster death in chains !
Say, “Live forever, wond'rous king!

“Born to redeem, and strong to save !"
Then ask the monster Where's thy sting?
“And where's thy vict'ry boasting grave ?"

Hymn 52. c. M.
1. D LUNG’D in a gulf of dark despair,

I We wretched sinners lay, :
Without one cheering beam of hope,

Or spark of glim’ring day.
2. With pitying eyes the Prince of grace

Beheld our helpless grief: He saw, and (O amazing love !) • He ran to our relief. 3. Down from the shining seats above

· With joyful haste he fled; · Enter'd the grave in mortal flesh,

And dwelt among the dead.
4. O! for this love let rocks and hills

Their lasting silence break,
And all harmonious human tongues

The Saviour's praises speak. 5. Angels assist our mighty joys,

Strike all your harps of gold :

But when you raise your highest notes,

His love can ne'er be told.

Hymn 53.. C. M.

Good-Friday.
1. ALAS! and did my Saviour bleed?

And did my Sov'reign die ?
Would he devote that sacred head,

For such a worm as I?
2. Was it for crimes that I have done,

He groan’d upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!

And love beyond degree!
13. Well might the sun in darkness hide,

And shut his glories in;
When Christ, the mighty Saviour dy'd,

For man's the creature's, sin !
4. Thus might I hide my blushing face,

While his dear cross appears;
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,

And melt my eyes to tears.
5. But drops of grief can ne'er repay

The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord I give myself away:

'Tis all that I can do.

Hymn 54, P. M. 1. V E heavens rejoice in Jesus's grace, ; 1 Let earth make a noise, and echo his praise;

Our all loving Saviour hath pacify'd God,

And paid for his favour the price of his blood. 2. Ye mountains and vales, in praises abound,

Ye hills and ye dales, continue the sound :
Break forth into singing, ye trees of the wood,
For Jesus is bringing lost sinners to God.

3. Atonement he made for every one,

The debt he hath paid, the work he hath done ; Shout all the creation, below and above,

Ascribing salvation to Jesus's love.
4. His mercy hath brought salvation to all,

Who take it unbought, he frees them from thrall ;
Throughout the believer, his glory displays
And perfects for ever, the vessels of grace.

Hymn 55. L. M. 1. THERE hangs the Saviour of mankind,

1 His visage marrd, his head reclin'd,
- His bleeding hands, his bleeding feet,
* Declare his love divinely great.
2. His flesh is torn with whips and nails;

His strength decays, his spirit fails :
His side is pierc'd, his heart is broke,

Beneath the sin-avenging stroke. 3. The thieves expiring on each side

Proclaim the crimes for which they dy'd; * But what, dear Saviour, hast thou done?

Thou dy'st for sin, but not thine own. 4. Jesus, and didst thou bleed for me?

O great, O boundless mystery!
I bow my head in deep amaze,
And silently adore thy grace.

Hymn 56. C. M.
DEHOLD the loving Son of God ...,

Stretch'd out upon the tree;
Behold him shed his precious blood,

And die for you and me. 2. Why is his body rack'd with pains,

And wrung with keenest smart? Why flows the blood out of his veins, Why torn with grief his heart?

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