Featured Great Hymns of the Cross and Jesus' Blood

"O Sacred Head, Now Wounded"

by Paul Gerhardt, 1607-1676
1. O sacred Head, now wounded,
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns, Thine only crown.
O sacred Head, what glory,
What bliss, till now was Thine!
Yet, though despised and gory,
I joy to call Thee mine.
2. Men mock and taunt and jeer Thee,
Thou noble countenance,
Though mighty worlds shall fear Thee
And flee before Thy glance.
How art thou pale with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How doth Thy visage languish
That once was bright as morn!
3. Now from Thy cheeks has vanished
Their color, once so fair;
From Thy red lips is banished
The splendor that was there.
Grim Death, with cruel rigor,
Hath robbed Thee of Thy life;
Thus Thou has lost Thy vigor,
Thy strength, in this sad strife.
4. My burden in Thy Passion,
Lord, Thou hast borne for me,
For it was my transgression
Which brought this woe on thee.
I cast me down before Thee,
Wrath were my rightful lot;
Have mercy, I implore Thee;
Redeemer, spurn me not!
5. My Shepherd, now receive me;
My Guardian, own me Thine.
Great blessings Thou didst give me,
O Source of gifts divine!
Thy lips have often fed me
With words of truth and love,
Thy Spirit oft hath led me
To heavenly joys above.
6. Here I will stand beside Thee,
From Thee I will not part;
O Savior, do not chide me!
When breaks Thy loving heart,
When soul and body languish
In death's cold, cruel grasp,
Then, in Thy deepest anguish,
Thee in mine arms I'll clasp.
7. The joy can ne'er be spoken,
Above all joys beside,
When in Thy body broken
I thus with safety hide.
O Lord of life, desiring
Thy glory now to see,
Beside Thy cross expiring,
I'd breathe my soul to Thee.
8. What language shall I borrow
To thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this, Thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
Oh, make me thine forever!
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never,
Outlive my love for Thee.
9. My Savior, be Thou near me
When death is at my door;
Then let Thy presence cheer me,
Forsake me nevermore!
When soul and body languish,
Oh, leave me not alone,
But take away mine anguish
By virtue of Thine own!
10. Be Thou my Consolation,
My Shield when I must die;
Remind me of Thy Passion
When my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee,
Upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfold Thee.
Who dieth thus dies well!

 

There is a fountain filled w blood
Drawn from Emmanuels veins
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains

 

Alas and did my saviour bleed and did my sovereign die
Would he devote that sacred head for such a worm as I

 

One of my Mothers favorites "The Old Rugged Cross"... Will one of you brethren be so kind to post the music on here for me... I can't at this time figure out how... Thank You... Brother Glen

 

Gerhardt's hymn "Of sacred head" is used in Bach's "St. Matthew Passion."
Our choir joined with others in singing it (over 3 hours) as a tribute to a much loved local musician who died in her 50s from cancer.
She suggested it for her funeral and her husband got choirs and musicians together.

 

http://www.primitivebaptist.net/Singing/The Old Rugged Cross 2.mp3

http://www.primitivebaptist.net/Singing/The Old Rugged Cross.mp3

From:
PrimitiveBaptist.Net A Cappella MP3 Songs of Praise Online

 

Just as I am - without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidst me come to Thee,
-O Lamb of God, I come!

Just as I am - and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot,
To Thee, whose blood can cleanse each spot,
-O Lamb of God, I come!

 

Thank you my dear Brother kyredneck in the Lord and friend... Just like I used to lead in song service... Listening to this I thought of Mom and Dad, and those precious saint long gone to be with the Lord... And those Precious Memories flooded my soul... Brother Glen

 

They Whipped Him Up the Hill Just for Me

It tears me up every time I hear it.

 

Jesus, keep me near the cross,
There a precious fountain;
Free to all, a healing stream,
Flows from Calv'ry's mountain.

In the cross, in the cross
Be my glory ever,
Till my ransomed soul shall find
Rest beyond the river.

 

I was sitting in my "Life Group" this morning-- the one I teach is now 'on hiatus' because of very low attendance-- and I saw some blood on a finger, then on a thumb, and did not know exactly where it was from. I finally found it was from my nose. But fortunately it never did stream out, and I think I kept it a secret, per se. So, songs about blood... (I know, not about my blood, except what I going to compose here)...

Alas, and did my nostril bleed
And take me by surprise;
Yet did not flow nonviscously--
'Twas kept from roving eyes.

In our class, in our class, while we read Isaiah 8,
And my finger and my thumb appeared to blush--
When I fin'lly figured out blood was coming from my snout,
I then grabbed a napkin lest it start to gush!

Then when we were about to close,
We stood up for the prayer.
I held the napkin to my nose
Remove it-- I'd not dare!

And "Amen--" we said "Amen--" and the class was then complete,
And a friend remarked that she had allergies, too.
So I told her no indeed,; that my nose began to bleed,
And I'm glad I kept it hidden from her view.

 

This is an old one and don't know if you ever sang in in your church but I remember leading it in mine many times... I believe the author is Joseph Hart 1873... Brother Glen


Gethsemane

Many woes had Christ endured,
Many sore temptations met,
Patient, and to pain’s inured;
But the sorest trial yet
Was to be sustained in thee,
Gloomy, sad Gethsemane!

Came at length the dreadful night,
Vengeance, with its iron rod,
Stood, and with collected might,
Bruised the harmless Lamb of God:
See, my soul, the Saviour see,
Groveling in Gethsemane.

There my God bore all my guilt;
This through grace can be believed;
But the torments which he felt,
Are too vast to be conceived:
None can penetrate through thee,
Doleful, dark Gethsemane.

All my sins against my God ;
All my sins against his laws;
All my sins against his blood;
All my sins against his cause;
Sins as boundless as the sea;
Hide me, O Gethsemane.

Here’s my claim, and here alone;
None a Saviour more can need;
Deeds of righteousness I’ve none;
Nor a work that I can plead;
Not a glimpse of hope for me,
Only in Gethsemane.

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
One almighty God of love,
Praised by all the heavenly host,
In thy shining courts above;
We poor sinners, gracious Three,
Bless thee for Gethsemane.

 

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