8.6.8.4. sung to St. Cuthbert 1 'TWAS not for our great love to Thee That Thou didst send Thy Son; That spring of love, O God, we see In Thee alone. 2 What love, Lord Jesus, brought Thee down Our hardened hearts to win, To be despised and spit upon, And bear our sin! 3 The sins of many Thou didst bear, Of all who look to Thee, When God, Thy God, forsook Thee there, On Calvary's tree. 4 'Tis finished! loud triumphant cry, Ere Thou didst yield Thy breath! The veil was rent, and we draw nigh To God, through death. 5 That glorious resurrection morn Bids doubts for ever cease, For far and wide the news is borne Of perfect peace. 6 Yes, peace! since every claim is met, Lord Jesus, by Thy blood, And Thou "our peace" art risen and set On high by God. 7 Thy grace, O Lord, alone revealed That wondrous heart of Thine; We thank Thee, and ourselves we yield To love divine. |