As on the cross the Saviour hung, And groaned, and bled, and died, He looked with pity on a wretch That languished by his side. 2 The dying thief in Jesus saw A majesty divine; While scoffing Jews around him stood, And asked him for a sign! 3 The kingdom, Lord, is thine, he said; ’Tis thine o’er men to reign: Thy wondrous works thy lordship prove, These pains thy love proclaim: 4 Honors divine await thee soon, A scepter and a crown: With shame thy foes shall yet behold Thee seated on a throne. 5 Then, gracious Lord, remember me! Is not forgiveness thine? My crimes have brought me to thy side— Thy love brought thee to mine! 6 His prayer the dying Jesus hears, And instantly replies, To-day your parting soul shall be With me in paradise. 177 7s & 6s. Surely he hath borne our griefs. O sacred head, now wounded, With grief and shame weighed down— O sacred brow, surrounded With thorns, thine only crown: Once on a throne of glory, Adorned with light divine; Now all despised and gory, I joy to call thee mine. 2 On me, as thou art dying, O, turn thy pitying eye; To thee for mercy crying, Before thy cross I lie. Thine, thine the bitter passion; Thy pain is all for me; Mine, mine the deep transgression; My sins are all on thee. 3 What language can I borrow To praise thee, heavenly Friend, For all this dying sorrow, Of all my woes the end? O, can I leave thee ever? Then do not thou leave me; Lord, let me never, never Outlive my love to thee. 4 Be near when I am dying; Then close beside me stand; Let me, while faint and sighing, Lean calmly on thy hand: These eyes, new faith receiving, From thee shall never move, For he who dies believing, Dies safely—in thy love. 178 8s, 7s & 4. It is finished. John 19:30. Hark! the voice of love and mercy Sounds aloud from Calvary; See! it rends the rocks asunder, Shakes the earth and vails the sky! It is finished! Hear the dying Saviour cry. 2 It is finished! O what pleasure Do these precious words afford! Heavenly blessings without measure Flow to us from Christ the Lord; It is finished! Saints, the dying words record. 3 Finished all the types and shadows Of the ceremonial law! Finished all that God had promised; Death and hell no more shall awe: It is finished! Saints, from this your comfort draw. 4 Tune your harps anew, you seraphs, Join to sing the pleasing theme; All on earth and all in heaven, Join to praise Immanuel’s name: Hallelujah! Glory to the bleeding Lamb!