1 2 3 4 5 1 2 3 HYMN 83. "Come, for all things are now ready.” And furnish'd well with joyful guests; That here its sacred pledges tastes! Let crowds approach with hearts prepar'd; HYMN 84. "This do in remembrance of me." ACCORDING to thy gracious word, This will I do, my dying Lord, I will remember thee. Thy body, broken for my sake, The sacramental cup I take, 3 Can I Gethsemane forget? 4 5 6 1 2 Or there thy conflict see, When to the cross I turn mine eyes, O Lamb of God, my sacrifice! Remember thee, and all thy pains, Yes, while a breath, a pulse remains, And when these failing lips grow dumb, When thou shalt in thy kingdom come, HYMN 85. The efficacy of Christ's blood, NOT all the blood of beasts, On Jewish altars slain, Could give the guilty conscience peace, Or wash away the stain. But Christ, the heavenly Lamb, Takes all our sins away; A sacrifice of nobler name 3 And richer blood than they. My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of thine, And there confess my sin. 4 5 My soul looks back to see The burden thou didst bear, Believing, we rejoice To see the curse remove; We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice, HYMN 86. The love of Christ. 1 PLUNG'D in a gulf of dark despair, We wretched sinners lay, 2 3 4 5 Without one cheerful beam of hope, With pitying eyes the Prince of grace, He saw, and, O amazing love! He came to our relief. Down from the shining seats above With joyful haste he fled, Enter'd the grave in mortal flesh, O for this love let rocks and hills Their lasting silence break; Angels, assist our songs of praise, But when you raise your highest notes, 1 HYMN 87. Delight in a crucified Saviour. SWEET the moments, rich in blessing, 2 Truly blessed is this station, 3 4 Low before his cross to lie; Love and grief my heart dividing, May I still enjoy this feeling, Prove his name each day more healing, FUNERAL. HYMN 88. The tolling Bell. 1 OFT as the bell, with solemn toll, 2 Only this frail and fleeting breath 3 Then leaving all I lov'd below, Must hear the Judge pronounce my fate, 4 Lord Jesus! help me now to flee, HYMN 89. The warning of Mortality. 1 THAT awful hour will soon appear, 2 Death calls my friends, my neighbours hence, And none resist the fatal dart; Continual warnings strike my sense, 3 Think, O my soul, how much depends Shall time, which heaven in mercy lends, 4 Lord of my life! inspire my heart For strength, and life, and death are thine. |