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The Book of Praise,
Inscribed upon the cross we see In shining letters, God is Love ;
He bears our sins upon the tree, He brings us mercy from above.
The Cross! it takes our guilt away;
It holds the fainting spirit up ; It cheers with hope the gloomy day,
And sweetens every bitter cup;
It makes the coward spirit brave, And nerves the feeble arm for fight;
It takes its terror from the grave, And gilds the bed of death with light;
The balm of life, the cure of woe, The measure and the pledge of love,
The sinner's refuge here below,
The angels' theme in heaven above.
Thomas Kelly. 1815.
Lord Jesu, when we stand afar
And gaze upon Thy Holy Cross, In love of Thee and scorn of self,
Oh! may we count the world as loss.
When we behold Thy bleeding wounds, And the rough way that Thou hast trod,
Make us to hate the load of sin That lay so heavy on our God.
Oh holy Lord! uplifted high
With outstretched arms, in mortal woe, Embracing in Thy wondrous love
The sinful world that lies below.