Yes, thy sins have done the deed, Driven the nails that fixed Him there, Crowned with thorns His sacred head, Pierced Him with the cruel spear, Made his soul a sacrifice, While for sinful man He dies! Wilt thou let Him bleed in vain? Still to death thy Lord pursue? Open all his wounds again, And the shameful cross renew? No; with all my sins I'll part; Break, oh break, my bleeding heart! --_C. Wesley._ "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 transgressions, 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! --_Frances Ridley Havergal._ ABIDE IN HIM. "Tecum volo vulnerari Te libenter amplexari In cruce desidero." OLD HYMN. Cling to the Crucified! His death is life to thee,-- Life for eternity. His pains thy pardon seal; His stripes thy bruises heal; His cross proclaims thy peace, Bids every sorrow cease. His blood is all to thee, It purges thee from sin; It sets thy spirit free, It keeps thy conscience clean. Cling to the Crucified! Cling to the Crucified! His is a heart of love, Full as the hearts above; Its depths of sympathy Are all awake for thee: His countenance is light, Even to the darkest night. That love shall never change-- That light shall ne'er grow dim; Charge thou thy faithless heart To find its all in him. Cling to the Crucified! --_Horatius Bonar._