The agonies of Christ.
Now let our pains be all forgot,
Our hearts no more repine;
Our suff'rings are not worth a thought,
When, Lord, compared with thine.
In lively figures here we see
The bleeding Prince of love;
Each of us hope, he died for me,
And then our griefs remove.
[Our humble faith here takes her rise,
While sitting round his board;
And back to Calvary she flies,
To view her groaning Lord.
His soul, what agonies it felt
When his own God withdrew;
And the large load of all our guilt
Lay heavy on him too!
But the Divinity within
Supported him to bear;
Dying, he conquered hell and sin,
And made his triumph there.]
Grace, wisdom, justice joined and wrought
The wonders of that day;
No mortal tongue, nor mortal thought,
Can equal thanks repay.
Our hymns should sound like those above,
Could we our voices raise;
Yet, Lord, our hearts shall all be love,
And all our lives be praise.
Back to Isaac Watts
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.