Scriptural narratives of those passages in Our Blessed Lord's life and ministry, which are subjects of annual commemoration in the church preceded by preliminary notices of the days on which they are commemorated, and followed by reflexions and collects: adapted to the greater holydays of the United Church of England and Ireland; and designed, together with biographical notices of the apostles, evangelists, and other saints, to form a course of reading on all the holydays of the church. By Richard Mant |
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GOOD FRIDAY. |
 | Scriptural narratives of those passages in Our Blessed Lord's life and ministry, which are subjects of annual commemoration in the church |  |
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GOOD FRIDAY.
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“Ah! how far less I prize, sweet speech to hold
With others, than to meditate on thee !”
Thus o'er a daughter's urn affection told
Her solace: thus beneath the fatal tree
Faith greets the Saviour, counting all things loss
Match'd with the untold riches of the Cross.
With others, than to meditate on thee !”
Thus o'er a daughter's urn affection told
Her solace: thus beneath the fatal tree
Faith greets the Saviour, counting all things loss
Match'd with the untold riches of the Cross.
How sweet the words, that win the Christian's ear,
At intervals, from Jesus' parting breath;
As if to render still more passing dear
His love, his care, his agony, his death!
That parting breath a holier influence showers,
Than even his blameless life's divinest hours!
At intervals, from Jesus' parting breath;
As if to render still more passing dear
His love, his care, his agony, his death!
That parting breath a holier influence showers,
Than even his blameless life's divinest hours!
“Father, forgive,” the King of sorrows said,
As on the throne of that fell tree accurst
Unfeeling men his feeble limbs outspread,
And from his hands and feet the blood-streams burst:
O, let not wrath the reckless deed pursue;
“Father, forgive; they know not what they do!”
As on the throne of that fell tree accurst
Unfeeling men his feeble limbs outspread,
And from his hands and feet the blood-streams burst:
O, let not wrath the reckless deed pursue;
“Father, forgive; they know not what they do!”
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Mid floods of scorn and hate that o'er him roll,
Of answering tone no sounds vindictive start:
But hark! what words of blessedness console
The throbbings of one contrite sinner's heart,
One faithful suppliant! “Thou this day shalt be,
My word is truth, in paradise with me!”
Of answering tone no sounds vindictive start:
But hark! what words of blessedness console
The throbbings of one contrite sinner's heart,
One faithful suppliant! “Thou this day shalt be,
My word is truth, in paradise with me!”
Yet once again from that opprobrious tree
To soothe affliction breathe his accents bland;
Where in dumb grief the mother lov'd, and he,
His soul's delight, the lov'd disciple, stand:
“One deed of filial love must yet be done:
“Behold thy mother, thou! and thou, thy son!”
To soothe affliction breathe his accents bland;
Where in dumb grief the mother lov'd, and he,
His soul's delight, the lov'd disciple, stand:
“One deed of filial love must yet be done:
“Behold thy mother, thou! and thou, thy son!”
But think not, while with lenient care he tried
The grief, that pierced their inmost heart, to heal,
'Twas that he scorn'd, as if in stoick pride,
His own heart's pangs and agonies to feel:
How keen those pangs behoves not us to say,
Well may his own distressful cry bewray.
The grief, that pierced their inmost heart, to heal,
'Twas that he scorn'd, as if in stoick pride,
His own heart's pangs and agonies to feel:
How keen those pangs behoves not us to say,
Well may his own distressful cry bewray.
That cry distressful, “O my God, my God,
Why leave me thus bereft of thee to mourn?”
Full well we deem a bleeding heart it show'd,
On the sharp rack of torture stretch'd and torn:
But deem not that it savour'd of a heart,
Estrang'd from patient suffering's duteous part.
Why leave me thus bereft of thee to mourn?”
Full well we deem a bleeding heart it show'd,
On the sharp rack of torture stretch'd and torn:
But deem not that it savour'd of a heart,
Estrang'd from patient suffering's duteous part.
Devotion soothes to peace the mourner's soul:
Sedate he scans with meditative eyes
Of God's own book the long mysterious roll,
And hark, “I thirst,” now near the goal he cries:
“Behold, my Father, all thy counsel seal'd;
And now my spirit to thy hands I yield.”
Sedate he scans with meditative eyes
Of God's own book the long mysterious roll,
And hark, “I thirst,” now near the goal he cries:
“Behold, my Father, all thy counsel seal'd;
And now my spirit to thy hands I yield.”
Clos'd is the fatal scene! But Faith delights
To Calvary's sad path and rocky hill
On fancy's wing to speed her solemn flights,
There take her stand, and hear and gaze her fill:
Gaze on the traits of that despised face,
And list to all those words of heavenly grace.
To Calvary's sad path and rocky hill
On fancy's wing to speed her solemn flights,
There take her stand, and hear and gaze her fill:
Gaze on the traits of that despised face,
And list to all those words of heavenly grace.
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There the meek pray'r of mercy on his foes,
There to his friends affection's last bequest,
The sovereign voice which paradise bestows,
The spirit to his Father's care releas'd,
Tell her that he, who thus his course hath run,
Is the belov'd of God, his own dear Son.
There to his friends affection's last bequest,
The sovereign voice which paradise bestows,
The spirit to his Father's care releas'd,
Tell her that he, who thus his course hath run,
Is the belov'd of God, his own dear Son.
The darken'd sun, the earth's convulsive shock,
The rending of the temple's holy veil,
The opening sepulchres, the rifted rock,
Take up the sequel of the wondrous tale:
With one loud voice the truth proclaim abroad,
And cry, “It is, it is, the Son of God.”
The rending of the temple's holy veil,
The opening sepulchres, the rifted rock,
Take up the sequel of the wondrous tale:
With one loud voice the truth proclaim abroad,
And cry, “It is, it is, the Son of God.”
| Scriptural narratives of those passages in Our Blessed Lord's life and ministry, which are subjects of annual commemoration in the church | |