3 But yet, I weeping see The thorns which pierced thy head; Thou faint'st beneath thy cross for me, For me to death thou'rt led! 4 Meekly, with love divine, Thy holy head is bent, And streams of blood, for sins of mine, Flow where thy side is rent. 5 Beneath this sacred flood I bow my sinful soul; Dear Savior, let thy precious blood Wash me and make me whole. Mrs. Grace Webster Hinsdale, 1868. 128 Owen. S.M. _The Savior's Tears._ (298) Did Christ o'er sinners weep, And shall our cheeks be dry? Let floods of penitential grief Burst forth from every eye. 2 The Son of God in tears-- The wondering angels see! Be thou astonished, O my soul! He shed those tears for thee. 3 He wept--that we might weep-- Each sin demands a tear; In heaven alone no sin is found, And there's no weeping there. Benjamin Beddome, 1787. 129 Toplady. 7s, 6. _Rock of Ages._ (515) Rock of ages, cleft for me! Let me hide myself in thee: Let the water and the blood, From thy side a healing flood, Be of sin the double cure; Save from wrath and make me pure. 2 Should my tears forever flow, Should my zeal no languor know, All for sin could not atone; Thou must save, and thou alone; In my hand no price I bring; Simply to thy cross I cling. 3 While I draw this fleeting breath, When mine eyelids close in death, When I rise to worlds unknown, See thee on thy judgment throne-- Rock of Ages cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee. Augustus M. Toplady, 1776. Cho.--Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee, Let me hide myself in thee. 130 Salvator Mundi. 7s. D. _The Litany._ (513) By thy birth, and by thy tears; By thy human griefs and fears; By thy conflict in the hour Of the subtle tempter's power-- Savior, look with pitying eye; Savior, help me, or I die. 2 By the tenderness that wept O'er the grave where Laz'rus slept; By the bitter tears that flow'd Over Salem's lost abode-- Savior, look with thy pitying eye; Savior, help me, or I die. 3 By thy lonely hour of prayer; By the fearful conflict there; By thy cross and dying cries; By thy one great sacrifice,-- Savior, look with pitying eye; Savior, help me, or I die. 4 By thy triumph o'er the grave; By thy power the lost to save; By thy high, majestic throne; By the empire all thine own,-- Savior, look with pitying eye; Savior, help me, or I die. Sir Robert Grant, 1815. 131 Rathbun. 8s &7s. _Glorying in the Cross._ (979) In the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time; All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime. 2 When the woes of life o'ertake me, Hopes deceive, and fears annoy, Never shall the cross forsake me; Lo! it glows with peace and joy. 3 When the sun of bliss is beaming Light and love upon my way, From the cross the radiance streaming Adds more luster to the day.