A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
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“Truly this Man was the Son of God!”
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 | A memorial volume of sacred poetry |  |
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“Truly this Man was the Son of God!”
“Surely 'tis the Son of God!”
Thus the Roman soldier spoke
As the earth on which he trod
Trembled, and the lightnings broke
Through a mid-day darkness—when
Jesus on the cross His breath
Yielded up for mortal men,
Triumphing o'er sin and death.
Thus the Roman soldier spoke
As the earth on which he trod
Trembled, and the lightnings broke
Through a mid-day darkness—when
Jesus on the cross His breath
Yielded up for mortal men,
Triumphing o'er sin and death.
“Surely 'tis the Son of God!”
Shall our grateful hearts repeat,
While along life's rugged road
Hopes, ineffable and sweet,
From that cross in glory beam:
In our grief, and gloom, and care,
Still our thoughts shall turn to him,
Gath'ring peace and comfort there.
Shall our grateful hearts repeat,
While along life's rugged road
Hopes, ineffable and sweet,
From that cross in glory beam:
In our grief, and gloom, and care,
Still our thoughts shall turn to him,
Gath'ring peace and comfort there.
| A memorial volume of sacred poetry | |