Text: | A dying Saviour |
1 Stretch'd on the cross the Saviour dies,
Hark! his expiring groans arise:
See, from his hands, his feet, his side,
Runs down the sacred crimson tide.
2 But life attends the deathful sound,
And flows from every bleeding wound;
The vital stream, how free it flows,
To save and cleanse his rebel foes.
3 Can I survey this scene of woe,
Where mingling grief and wonder flow;
And yet my heart unmov'd remain,
Insensible to love or pain?
4 Come, dearest Lord, thy grace impart,
To warn this cold, this stupid heart!
'Till all its pow'rs and passions move
In melting grief, and ardent love.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Stretch'd on the cross the Saviour dies |
Title: | A dying Saviour |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1799 |
Topic: | Christ: His death |