S. A Meditation.
A Meditation.
Made Sin, Thou bear’st my sins Thou Holy One of God;
Jehovah’s sword awoke, Thence flowed Thy precious blood.
Hail! boundless grace which sets me free, Sin judged, my sins too borne by Thee, That blood from judgment shieldeth me. And I am Thine, through death For me, where wrath impelled Its billows all on Thee, And ever was annulled.
Thou liv’st - I live, Thy sorrow o’er; Mine - Thine to share for evermore, The Father’s house, heaven’s boundless store. Be mine THY lowly path On earth till that blest day;
Nothing the world hath now To give or take away. From all its shadows vain, I flee;
Hail! Prince and Saviour, Lord, with Thee I come to spend eternity!
H. C. Anstey.