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272
OUR SAVIOUR'S PRAYERS.
Preamble.
High Priest for sinners, Jesus, Lord!
Whom as a man of griefs I see,
Thy prayers on earth while I record,
If still in heaven thou pray'st for me,
My soul for thy soul's travail claim;
I seek salvation in thy name.
Whom as a man of griefs I see,
Thy prayers on earth while I record,
If still in heaven thou pray'st for me,
My soul for thy soul's travail claim;
I seek salvation in thy name.
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Part I.
Baptized as for the dead he rose,
With prayer, from Jordan's hallow'd flood;
Ere long, by persecuting foes,
To be baptized in his own blood:
The Father's voice proclaim'd the Son,
The Spirit witness'd;—these are one.
With prayer, from Jordan's hallow'd flood;
Ere long, by persecuting foes,
To be baptized in his own blood:
The Father's voice proclaim'd the Son,
The Spirit witness'd;—these are one.
Early he rose ere dawn of day,
And to a desert place withdrew,
There was he wont to watch and pray,
Until his locks were wet with dew,
And birds below, and beams above,
Had warn'd him thence to works of love.
And to a desert place withdrew,
There was he wont to watch and pray,
Until his locks were wet with dew,
And birds below, and beams above,
Had warn'd him thence to works of love.
At evening when his toils were o'er,
He sent the multitudes away,
And on the mountain or the shore,
All night remain'd alone to pray,
Till o'er his head the stars grew dim:
—When was the hour of rest for him?
He sent the multitudes away,
And on the mountain or the shore,
All night remain'd alone to pray,
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—When was the hour of rest for him?
In field or city when he taught,
Oft went his spirit forth in sighs;
And when his mightiest deeds were wrought,
To heaven he lifted up his eyes;
He pray'd at Lazarus' grave, and shed
Tears, with the word that waked the dead.
Oft went his spirit forth in sighs;
And when his mightiest deeds were wrought,
To heaven he lifted up his eyes;
He pray'd at Lazarus' grave, and shed
Tears, with the word that waked the dead.
When mothers brought their babes, he took
The lambs into his arms, and pray'd;
On Tabor, his transfigured look,
While praying, turn'd the sun to shade,
And forms, too pure for human sight,
Grew visible amidst his light.
The lambs into his arms, and pray'd;
On Tabor, his transfigured look,
While praying, turn'd the sun to shade,
And forms, too pure for human sight,
Grew visible amidst his light.
Part II.
For Peter, bold in speech and brave
In act, yet in temptation frail,
(As once he proved him on the wave,)
He pray'd lest his weak faith should fail;
And when by Satan's snare enthrall'd,
His eye the wanderer recall'd.
In act, yet in temptation frail,
(As once he proved him on the wave,)
He pray'd lest his weak faith should fail;
And when by Satan's snare enthrall'd,
His eye the wanderer recall'd.
Amidst his mournful family,
Who soon must see his face no more,
With what divine discourse did he
Strength to their fainting souls restore!
Then pray'd for all his people:—where
Have words recorded such a prayer?
Who soon must see his face no more,
With what divine discourse did he
Strength to their fainting souls restore!
Then pray'd for all his people:—where
Have words recorded such a prayer?
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Next, with strong cries and bitter tears,
Thrice hallow'd he that doleful ground,
Where, trembling with mysterious fears,
His sweat like blood-drops fell around,
And being in an agony,
He prayèd yet more earnestly.
Thrice hallow'd he that doleful ground,
Where, trembling with mysterious fears,
His sweat like blood-drops fell around,
And being in an agony,
He prayèd yet more earnestly.
Here oft in spirit let me kneel,
Share in the speechless griefs I see,
And while he felt what I should feel,
Feel all his power of love to me
Break my hard heart, and grace supply,
For him who died for me to die.
Share in the speechless griefs I see,
And while he felt what I should feel,
Feel all his power of love to me
Break my hard heart, and grace supply,
For him who died for me to die.
Stretch'd on the ignominious tree
For those, whose hands had nail'd him there,
Who stood and mock'd his misery,
He offer'd up his latest prayer;
Then with the voice of victory cried,
“'Tis finish'd,” bow'd his head and died.
For those, whose hands had nail'd him there,
Who stood and mock'd his misery,
He offer'd up his latest prayer;
Then with the voice of victory cried,
“'Tis finish'd,” bow'd his head and died.
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Then all his prayers were answer'd;—all
The fruits of his soul's travail gain'd;
The cup of wormwood and of gall
Down to the dregs his lips had drain'd;
Accomplish'd was the eternal plan,
He tasted death for every man.
The fruits of his soul's travail gain'd;
The cup of wormwood and of gall
Down to the dregs his lips had drain'd;
Accomplish'd was the eternal plan,
He tasted death for every man.
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