A Collection of Hymns (1780)
| Author | Charles Wesley |
|---|---|
| Type | hymn-collection |
| Year | 1780 |
| Passage ID | cw-hymns-1780-016 |
| Words | 397 |
| Source | https://www.ccel.org/ccel/wesley/hymn.html |
HYMN 24. part i. 1 VE that pass by, behold the Man ! A The Man of Griefs, condemn'd for you ! The Lamb of God, for sinners slain, Weeping to Calvary pursue. 2 See! how his back the scourges tear, While to the bloody pillar bound ! The Goodness of God. 2,) The ploughers make long furrows there, Till all his bodv is one wound. 3 Nor can he thus their hate assuage ; His innocence, to death pursued, Must fully glut their utmost rage : Hark ! how they clamour for his blood ! 4 " To us our own Barabbas give ! Away with him," (they loudly cry,) " Away with him, not fit to live, The vile seducer crucify ! " 5 His sacred limbs they stretch, they tear, With nails they fasten to the wood ; His sacred limbs, exposed and bare, Or only cover'd with his blood. 6 See there his temples crown'd with thorn. His bleeding hands extended wide, His streaming feet translix'd and torn, The fountain gushing from his side ! 7 Where is the King of Glory now ! The everlasting Son of God ! The' Immortal hangs his languid brow ; The' Almighty faints beneath his load ! 8 Beneath my load he faints and dies : / fill'd his soul with pangs unknown : / caused those mortal groans and cries, / kill'd the Father's onlv Son ! 1 f THOU dear suffering Son of God, - How doth thy heart to sinners move ! Help me to catch thy precious blood ; Help me to taste thy dying love. 2 Give me to feel thy agonies ; One drop of thy sad cup afford : I fain with thee would sympathize, And share the sufferings of my Lord £v) The Goodness of God. 3 The earth could to her centre quake, Convulsed, while her Creator died : O let mine inmost nature shake, And die with Jesus crucified ! 4 At thy last gasp the graves display 'd Their horrors to the upper skies : O that my soul might burst the shade, And, quicken'd by thy death, arise ! 5 The rocks could feel thy powerful death, And tremble, and asunder part : O rend, with thine expiring breath, The harder marble of my heart ! 6 My stony heart thy voice shall rent,