3. Calvary’s mournful mountain climb; There, adoring at His feet, Mark that miracle of time, God’s own sacrifice complete. “It is finished!” hear Him cry; Learn of Jesus Christ to die. 4. Early hasten to the tomb Where they laid His breathless clay; All is solitude and gloom,— Who hath taken Him away? Christ is risen! He meets our eyes. Savior, teach us so to rise. James Montgomery, 1825. 200 C. M. There is a fountain filled with blood, Drawn from Immanuel’s veins, And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains. 2. The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day; And there have I, as vile as he, Washed all my sins away. 3. Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood Shall never lose its power Till all the ransomed Church of God Be saved to sin no more. 4. E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply, Redeeming love has been my theme And shall be till I die. 5. Then in a nobler, sweeter song I’ll sing Thy power to save, When this poor lisping, stammering tongue Lies silent in the grave. W. Cowper, 1771. 201 7, 6, 8 l O bleeding Head, and wounded, And full of pain and scorn, In mockery surrounded With cruel crown of thorn! O Head, once crowned with glory And heavenly majesty, But now despised and gory; Yet here I welcome Thee! 2. Men spit upon and jeer Thee, Thou noble countenance, Though mighty worlds shall fear Thee And flee before Thy glance. How art Thou pale with anguish, With sore abuse and scorn! How does Thy visage languish Which once was bright as morn! 3. Now from Thy cheeks has vanished Their color once so fair; From Thy red lips is banished The splendor that was there. Pale Death, with cruel rigor, Bereaveth Thee of life; Thus losest Thou Thy vigor And strength in this sad strife. 4. My burden, in Thy Passion, Lord, Thou hast borne for me, For it was my transgression Which brought this woe on Thee. I cast me down before Thee, Wrath were my rightful lot; Have mercy, I implore Thee, Redeemer, spurn me not! 5. My Shepherd, now receive me! My Guardian, own me Thine! Great blessings Thou didst give me, O Source of gifts divine! Thy lips have often fed me With milk and sweetest food; Thy Spirit oft has led me To stores of heavenly good.