“By Thy Cross and Passion.”

“He hath given us rest by His sorrow, and life by His death.”—John Bunyan.


What hast Thou done for me, O mighty Friend,
Who lovest to the end !
Reveal Thyself, that I may now behold
Thy love unknown, untold,
Bearing the curse, and made a curse for me,
That blessed and made a blessing I might be.


Oh, Thou wast crowned with thorns, that I might wear
A crown of glory fair;
“Exceeding sorrowful,” that I might be
Exceeding glad in Thee;
“Rejected and despised,” that I might stand
Accepted and complete on Thy right hand.


Wounded for my transgression, stricken sore,
That I might “sin no more”;
Weak, that I might be always strong in Thee;
Bound, that I might be free;
Acquaint with grief, that I might only know
Fulness of joy in everlasting flow.


Thine was the chastisement, with no release,
That mine might be the peace;
The bruising and the cruel stripes were Thine,
That healing might be mine;
Thine was the sentence and the condemnation,
Mine the acquittal and the full salvation.


For Thee revilings, and a mocking throng,
For me the angel-song;
For Thee the frown, the hiding of God’s face,
For me His smile of grace;
Sorrows of hell and bitterest death for Thee,
And heaven and everlasting life for me.


Thy cross and passion, and Thy precious death,
While I have mortal breath,
Shall be my spring of love and work and praise,
The life of all my days;
Till all this mystery of love supreme
Be solved in glory—glory’s endless theme.

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