5 For you, the children of my love,
It was for you I dy'd ;
Behold my hands, behold my feet,
And look into my ſide.
6 Theſe are the wounds for yon I bore
The tokens of my pains,
When I came down to free your ſouls
From miſery and chains.
7 Juſtice unſheath'd its fiery ſword,
And plung'd it in my heart,
Infinite pangs for you I bore,
And moſt tormenting ſmart.
8 When hell and all its ſpiteful pow'rs
Stood dreadful in my way,
To reſcue thoſe dear lives of yours,
I gave my own away.
9 But, while I bled, and groan'd, and dy'd,
I ruin'd Satan's throne;
High on my croſs I hung, and ſpy'd
The monſter tumbling down.
10 Now you must triumph at my feaſt,
And taſte my fleſh, my blood,
And live eternal ages bleſs'd;
For 'tis immortal food.
11 Victorious God, what can we pay
For favours ſo divine?
We would devote our hearts away
To be for ever thine.
12 We give thee, Lord, our higheſt praiſe;
The tribute of our tongues;
But themes ſo infinite as theſe
Exceed cur nobleſt ſongs.
F I N I S.
Glaſgow, Printed by J. & M. Robertſon, Saltmarket,
