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637. L. M. STENNETT.
“ It is finished.”
And meekly bowed his head, and died :
The battle fought, the victory won. 2 T is finished !" all that heaven foretold
By prophets in the days of old ;
That kings and prophets never knew. 3 "'T is finished !” Son of God, thy power
Hath triumphed in this awful hour;
638. 78. M. CRABBE.
The Christian Pilgrim.
Come the way to Zion's gate;
Knock and weep, and watch and wait,
Weep-he loves the mourner's tears,
Wait-till heavenly grace appears. 2 Hark; it is the Saviour's voice,
"Welcome, pilgrim, to thy rest," Now within the gate rejoice,
Safe and owned, and bought and blessed;
Safe--from all the lures of vice,
Ownd-by joys the contrite know, Boughı—by love, and life the price,
Blest-the mighty debt to owe. 3 Holy pilgrim, what for thee
In a world like this remains ?
Fear and shame, and doubt and pains; Fear-the hope of heaven shall flee,
Shame-from glory's view retire,
Pain-in endless bliss expire.
639. C. M. DUNCAN.
The Glorification of Christ.
Let angels prostrate fall;
And crown him-Lord of all. 2 Ye chosen seed of Israel's race,
A remnant weak and small;
And crown him-Lord of all. 3 Let every kindred, every tribe,
On this terrestrial ball,
And crown him-Lord of all.
We at his feet may fall;
And crown him-Lord of all.
640. 8 & 7s. M. BOWRING.
The Cross of Christ. 1 In the cross of Christ I glory,
Towering o'er the wrecks of time; All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime. 2 When the woes of life o'ertake me,
Hopes deceive and fears annoy,
Lo! it glows with peace and joy. 3 When the sun of bliss is beaming
Light and love upon my way,
Adds more lustre to the day. 4 Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,
By the cross are sanctified;
Joys that through all time abide. 5 In the cross of Christ I glory,
Towering o'er the wrecks of time;
Gathers round its head sublime.
641. 7s. M. GIBBONS.
" The Lord is risen."
Death, yield up thy mighty prey !
2 'Tis the Saviour-angels, raise
Your triumphant shouts of praise;
Hear the joy-inspiring sound.
Gracious Conqueror! through them ride; King of Glory! mount thy throne;
Boundless empire is thine own.
Praise, and sweep your golden lyres;
642. P. M. H. WARE, JR.
Resurrection of Christ. 1 Lift your glad voices in triumph on high,
For Jesus hath risen, and man cannot die; Vain were the terrors that gathered around
him, And short the dominion of death and the grave; He burst from the fetters of darkness that
bound him, Resplendent in glory, to live and to save:
Loud was the chorus of angels on high,–
The Saviour hath risen and man cannot die. 2 Glory to God, in full anthems of joy,
The being he gave us death cannot destroy: Sad were the life we must part with to-morrow, If tears were our birthright, and death were
But Jesus hath cheered the dark valley of sor
And bade us, immortal, tò heaven ascend: Lift then your voices in triumph on high, For Jesus hath risen, and man shall not die.
643. C. M. PARADISE ST. COLL.
Reflections on the Death of Jesus.
With pious grief improve,
Of Jesus' dying love.
His pity could subdue ;“Forgive them, Father!” he exclaimed;
" They know not what they do." 3 0, what a love was here displayed,
Beyond our utmost thought !
In life and death he taught ! 4 Let not his sacred truths by us
Be lost or misapplied ;
That 't was for us he died.
644. C. M. NOEL.
And owns the grateful tie;-