Wesley Corpus

Well may heaven be cloath'd with black And solemn sackcloath wear, Jesu's agony partake The hour of darkness share: Mourn th' astonish'd10 hosts above, Silence saddens all the skies, Kindler of seraphick love The God of angels dies. O my God, he dies for me, I feel the mortal smart! See him hanging on the tree A sight that breaks my heart! O that all to thee might turn! Sinners, ye may love him too, Look on him ye pierc'd, and mourn For one who bled for you. Weep o'er your desire and hope With tears of humblest love; Sing, for Jesus is gone up, And reigns enthron'd above! Lives our head, to die no more: Power is all to Jesus given, Worship'd as he was before Th' immortal King of heaven. Lord, we bless thee for thy grace, And truth which never fail, Hastning to behold thy face Without a dimming veil: 10Ori., "astonied"; corrected in 6th edn. (1771) and following. Page 18 We shall see our heavenly King, All thy glorious love proclaim, Help the angel-quires to sing Our dear triumphant Lamb. Hymn XXII. Prince of life, for sinners slain, Grant us fellowship with thee, Fain we would partake thy pain, Share thy mortal agony, Give us now the dreadful power, Now bring back thy dying hour. Place us near th' accursed wood Where thou didst thy life resign, Near as once thy mother stood; Partners of the pangs divine, Bid us feel her sacred smart, Feel the sword that pierc'd her heart. Surely now the prayer he hears: Faith presents the crucified! Lo! The wounded Lamb appears Pierc'd his feet, his hands his side, Hangs our hope on yonder tree, Hangs, and bleeds to death for me! Hymn XXIII. Hearts of stone, relent, relent, Break by Jesu's cross subdued, See his body mangled, rent, Cover'd with a gore of blood! Sinful soul, what hast thou done? Murther'd God's eternal Son! Page 19 Yes, our sins have done the deed, Drove the nails that fix him here, Crown'd with thorns his sacred head, Pierc'd him with the soldier's spear, Made his soul a sacrifice; For a sinful world he dies. Shall we let him die in vain? Still to death pursue our God? Open tear his wounds again, Trample on his pretious blood? No; with all our sins we part, Saviour, take my broken heart! Hymn XXIV.