Isaac Watts.

479 Dorrnance. 8s & 7s.

Viewing the Cross. (977)

While, in sweet communion, feeding
  On this earthly bread and wine,
Savior, may we see thee bleeding
  On the cross, to make us thine.

2 Now, our eyes forever closing
  To this fleeting world below,
On thy gentle breast reposing,
  Teach us, Lord, thy grace to know.

3 Though unseen, be ever near us,
  With the still small voice of love,
Whisp’ring words of peace to cheer us,
  Ev’ry doubt and fear remove.

4 Bring before us all the story
  Of thy life, and death of woe;
And, with hopes of endless glory,
  Wean our hearts from all below.

     Edward Denny, 1839.

480 Arlington.  C.M.

Remembering Christ. (958)

That dreadful night before his death,
  The Lamb, for sinners slain,
Did, almost with his dying breath,
  This solemn feast ordain.

2 To keep the feast, Lord, we have met,
  And to remember thee;
Help each poor trembler to repeat—­
  For me he died, for me.

3 Thy suff’rings, Lord, each sacred sign
  To our remembrance brings;
We eat the bread and drink the wine,
  But think on nobler things.

4 Oh, tune our tongues, and set in frame
  Each heart that pants for thee,
To sing, Hosanna to the Lamb,
  The Lamb that died for me.

     Joseph Hart, d. 1768

481 Till He Come. 7s.

The Coming Joy.

“Till he come!” oh, let the words
Linger on the trembling chords,
Let the “little while” between
In their golden light be seen;
Let us think how heav’n and home
Lie beyond that “Till he come!”

2 When the weary ones we love
Enter on that rest above,
When their words of love and cheer
Fall no longer on our ear,
Hush! be ev’ry murmur dumb,
It is only “Till he come!”

3 Clouds and darkness round us press;
Would we have one sorrow less? 
All the sharpness of the cross,
All that tells the world is loss,
Death, and darkness, and the tomb
Pain us only “Till he come!”

4 See, the feast of love is spread,
Drink the wine and eat the bread: 
Sweet memorials, till the Lord
Call us round his heavn’ly board;
Some from earth, from glory some,
Severed only “Till he come!”

     E.H.B.  Bickersteth, 1861.

482 Arlington.  C.M.

Baptized into His Death. (945)

We long to move and breathe in thee,
  Inspired with thine own breath,
To live thy life, O Lord, and be
  Baptized into thy death.

2 Thy death to sin we die below,
  But we shall rise in love;
We here are planted in thy woe,
  But we shall bloom above.

3 Above we shall thy glory share,
  As we thy cross have borne;
E’en we shall crowns of honor wear,
  When we the thorns have worn.