The Church Hymnal ‎#99

99. Now, my soul, thy voice upraising

1 Now, my soul, thy voice upraising,
Tell in sweet and mournful strain,
How the Crucified enduring
Grief, and wounds, and dying pain,
Freely of His love was offered,
Sinless was for sinners slain.

2 Scourged with unrelenting fury,
For the sins which we deplore,
By His livid stripes He heals us,
Raising us to fall no more;
All our bruises gently soothing,
Binding up the bleeding sore.

3 See! His hands and feet are fastened;
So He makes His people free;
Not a wound whence blood is flowing
But a fount of grace shall be;
Yea, the very nails which nail Him
Nail us also to the tree.

4 Through His heart the spear is piercing,
Though His foes have seen Him die;
Blood and water thence are streaming
In a tide of mystery;
Water from our guilt to cleanse us,
Blood to win us crowns on high.

5 Jesu, may those precious fountains
Drink to thirsting souls afford:
Let them be our present healing,
And at length our great reward;
So a ransomed world shall ever
Praise Thee, its redeeming Lord.

Amen.

Text Information

• First Line: Now, my soul, thy voice upraising
• Author: C. de Santeuil
• Translator: H. W. Baker
• Meter: 8.7.8.7.8.7.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1894
• Topic: Holy Week

Tune Information

• Name: MARGARET STREET
• Composer: W. S. Hoyte
• Meter: 8.7.8.7.8.7.
• Key: A♭ Major