 | The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal |  |
‘By Thy Cross and Passion.’
‘He hath given us rest by His sorrow, and life by His death.’—
John Bunyan.
I
What hast Thou done for me, O mighty Friend,Who lovest to the end!
Reveal Thyself, that I may now behold
Thy love unknown, untold,
Bearing the curse, and made a curse for me,
That blessed and made a blessing I might be.
II
Oh, Thou wast crowned with thorns, that I might wearA crown of glory fair;
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Exceeding glad in Thee;
‘Rejected and despised,’ that I might stand
Accepted and complete on Thy right hand.
III
Wounded for my transgression, stricken sore,That I might ‘sin no more;’
Weak, that I might be always strong in Thee;
Bound, that I might be free;
Acquaint with grief, that I might only know
Fulness of joy in everlasting flow.
IV
Thine was the chastisement, with no release,That mine might be the peace;
The bruising and the cruel stripes were Thine,
That healing might be mine;
Thine was the sentence and the condemnation,
Mine the acquittal and the full salvation.
V
For Thee revilings, and a mocking throng,For me the angel-song;
For Thee the frown, the hiding of God's face,
For me His smile of grace;
Sorrows of hell and bitterest death for Thee,
And heaven and everlasting life for me.
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VI
Thy cross and passion, and Thy precious death,While I have mortal breath,
Shall be my spring of love and work and praise,
The life of all my days;
Till all this mystery of love supreme
Be solved in glory—glory's endless theme.
| The Poetical Works of Frances Ridley Havergal | |