The Stennetts of England - Joseph Stennett - Hymn Poems

Hast thou, my soul, thy Saviour view'd

Hast thou, my soul, thy Saviour view'd
As on the cross he hung and bled?
Hast seen his bruises, wounds, and tears,
Seen him bow down his dying head?

Hast heard how rudely he was jeer'd
By those that made him groan and die
Heard him amid their cruel scoffs,
Ev'n rend the heavens with his cry,

That doleful cry, my God, my God,
O why hast thou thy sin forsook!
Hast mark'd the anguish of his words,
The mortal horror of his look?

All this is much, yet 'tis not all
But thou no proper terms canst find
To paint the torments of his soul,
The inward bruises of his mind.

All this and more than thou, my soul,
Can tell or think, he did endure,
To screen thee from his fathers wrath,
And thy eternal bliss secure.

Look back once more, and view his head,
His back, his hands, his feet, his side
And tell if any fight like this
Is found in all the world beside.

No, all to we is dung and dross,
But my dear Jesus crucify'd
Under the shadow of his cross
It sit me down, and there abide.

His wounds, the noblest proofs of love,
His beauty too I there shall see,
Darting thro his reproachful veil its
Sweet and powerful beams on me.

to: ../HymnsJoseph.html#js26 from: hymns/Joseph26.html

to: t../pgindex.html#Josephp from: hymns/Joseph26.html

Website by Allen Harringtonbr> https://blue-hare.com/stennett/hymns/joseph26.html
Copyright © 1950, 2012 Oscar Burdick & 1999-2022 Allen Harrington

Free JavaScripts provided
by The JavaScript Source