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Text: | The Crucifixion |
1 Ye that pass by, behold the man,
The man of grief, condemn'd for you,
The Lamb of God for sinners slain,
Weeping to Calvary pursue.
2 His sacred limbs they stretch, they tear,
With nails they fasten to the wood—
His sacred limbs— expos'd and bare,
Or only cover'd with his blood.
3 See there! his temples crown'd with thorns,
His bleeding hands extended wide,
His streaming feet transfix'd and torn,
The fountain gushing from his side.
4 O thou dear suffering son of God,
How doth thy heart to sinners move!
Help us to catch thy precious blood,
Help us to taste thy dying Love.
5 The earth could to her centre quake,
Convuls'd when her Creator died;
O may our inmost nature shake,
And bow with Jesus crucified!
6 At thy last gasp, the graves display'd
Their horrors to the upper skies;
O that our souls might burst the shade,
And, quicken'd by thy death, arise.
7 The rocks could feel thy powerful death,
And tremble, and asunder part;
O rend, with thy expiring breath,
The harder marble of our heart.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | Ye that pass by, behold the man |
Title: | The Crucifixion |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1793 |
Topic: | Son |