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Lyric Poems

Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres

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On Good Friday,
 
 


162

On Good Friday,

The Day of our Saviour's Passion.

Weep this great Day! Let Tears oreflow your Eyes;
When Father gave his Son in Sacrifice;
This Day for us his pretious Blood was spilt,
Whose Dying made Atonement for our Guilt.
He on a Cross, with Shame, gave up his Breath,
E'en He who could not dye, did suffer Death:
Closing his Eyes, to Heav'n He op'd a way,
And gave those Life who then expiring lay.
Death did against our Souls those Arms prepare,
But He the Fury of the Conflict bare;
To guard our Lives his Body was the Shield,
And by our Gen'ral's Fall, we gain the Field.
When Graves shall open, Temples Vail be torn,
The El'ments weep, & Heav'ns themselves shall mourn;
O Hearts more hard than Stones, not to relent!
May we shed pious Tears, and of our Sins repent.