Psalms and Hymns Index
Van Deusen/Kosinski Collection


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HYMN 71. C.M.
This Cup is the New-Testament in my blood. (cont.)

  3 My life and soul, my heart and flesh,
   And all my pow'rs, are thine.
  4 I call that legacy my own,
   Which Jesus did bequeath;
'Twas purchas'd with his dying groan,
   And ratified in death.
  5 Sweet is the mem'ry of his name,
   Who bless'd us in his will;
And to his testament of love,
   Made his own life the seal.


HYMN 72. L.M.
Worthy is the Lamb that was slain.

  1 O THE sweet wonders of that cross,
Where God the Saviour lov'd and died!
Her noblest life my spirit draws
From his dear wounds, and bleeding side.
  2 I would for ever speak his name
In sounds to mortal ears unknown:
With angels join to praise the Lamb,
And worship at his Father's throne.
  3 All hail! thou great Immanuel, hail!
Ten thousand blessings on thy name!
While thus thy wondrous love we tell,
Our bosoms feel the sacred flame.
  4 Come, quickly come, immortal King!
On earth thy regal honours raise;
The full salvation promised bring,
Then ev'ry tongue shall sing thy praise!


HYMN 73. L.M.
Thanksgiving.

  1 THE food on which thy children live,
A Great God, is thine alone to give:
And we, for grace receiv'd, would raise
A sacred song of love and praise.

PAGE 401


HYMN 73. L.M.
Thanksgiving. (cont.)

  2 How vast, how full, how rich, how free,
Dear Jesus, thy rich treasures be!
To the full fountain of our joys.
We gladly come for fresh supplies.
  3 For this we wait upon thee, Lord,
For this we listen to thy word:
Descend like gentle show'rs of rain,
Nor let our souls attend in vain.


HYMN 74. C.M.
Thanksgiving.

  1 LORD, at thy table I behold
   The wonders of thy grace;
But most of all admire, that I
   Should find a welcome place:
  2 I, that am all defil'd with sin,
   A rebel to my God;
I, that have crucified his Son,
   And trampled on his blood!
  3 What strange surprising grace is this,
   That such a soul has room!
My Saviour takes me by the hand,
   My Jesus bids me come.
  4 Eat, O my friends, the Saviour cries,
   The feast was made for you:
For you I groan'd, and bled, and died,
   And rose, and triumph'd too.
  5 With trembling faith, and bleeding heart,
   Lord, I accept thy love:
'Tis a rich banquet I have had,
   What will it be above?
  6 Ye saints below, and hosts of heav'n,
   Join all your praising pow'rs;
No theme is like redeeming love,
   No Saviour is like ours.






        
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