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Tracing out Wisdom, Power, and Love
LORD, it belongs not to my care
Whether I die or live;
And this thy grace must give.
That I may long obey:
That shall have equal pay ?
Christ leads me through no darker rooms
Than he went through before; He that into God's kingdom comes,
Must enter by that door.
Thy blessed face to see;
What will thy glory be?
Then I shall end my sad complaints,
And weary sinful days;
That sing Jehovah's praise.
The eye of faith is dim;
FOR GOOD FRIDAY.
By the cross unheeded sighing,
The afflicted Mother stood.
Through her heart, with sorrows riven, Sharp the destined sword was driven,
Sharp beyond her worst forebode.
Blest of women-with what anguish
Mother of the Holiest One!
How she watched, in bitterest moaning, Fainting, sickening, trembling, groaning,
All the tortures of her Son!
Lives there one, who, coldly gazing,
From the crowd that mocks below,
To the cross, where, broken-hearted,
Clings and weeps his speechless woe?
Wounded for the world's transgression, Murdered to make intercession,
Scourged by those he came to save,
That sweet Son, by most forsaken,
Till his spirit up he gave.
Eja Christe,* fons amoris,
Fac, ut tecum lugeam :
Sancte Pater, istud agas
Cordi meo validè.
Tui nati vulnerati,
Pænas mecum divide.
Fac me juxta crucem flere,
Donec ego vixero.
Flens cum flente Matre stare, Me cum illâ sociare
In planctu desidero.
Fac ut portem Christi mortem, Passionis fac consortem,
Et plagas recolere.
Flammis ne urar succensus
In die judicii.
Quando corpus morietur,
ANCIENT ECCLESIASTICAL HYMN.
* It is hoped that no one will object to the slight alterations by which the vemainder of this hymn is transferred to the true object of worship.