HYMN 16. (C. M.) The Agonies of Christ.
I
Now let our pains be all forgot,
Our hearts no more repine,
Our sufferings are not worth a thought,
When, Lord, compar'd with thine.
II
In lively figures here we see
The bleeding Prince of love;
Each of us hope, he dy'd for me,
And then our griefs remove.
III
Our humble faith here takes her rise
While sitting round his board;
And back to Calvary she flies
To view her groaning Lord.
IV
His soul what agonies it felt
When his own God withdrew!
And the large load of all our guilt
Lay heavy on him too.
V
But the divinity within
Supported him to bear:
Dying he conquer'd hell and sin,
And made his triumph there.
VI
Grace, wisdom, justice join'd and wrought
The wonders of that day:
No mortal tongue, nor mortal thought
Can equal thanks repay.
VII
Our hymns should sound like those above,
Could we our voices raise;
Yet, Lord, our hearts shall all be love,
And all our lives be praise.
