169
L. M.
Looking to the cross.
O Lord! when faith with fixéd eyes
Beholds thy wondrous sacrifice,
Love rises to an ardent flame,
And we all other hope disclaim.
2 With cold affections who can see
The thorns, the scourge, the nails, the tree,
The flowing tears and crimson sweat,
The bleeding hands, and head, and feet?
3 Jesus, what millions of our race
Have seen the triumphs of thy grace!
And millions more to thee shall fly,
And on thy sacrifice rely.
4 The sorrow, shame, and death, were thine,
And all the stores of wrath divine!
Ours are the pardon, life, and bliss;
What love can be compared to this!