Help me, O Lord, thy love to show,

Thy saving truth proclaim;

Tis all my business here below

To cry, “Behold the Lamb!”

Happy, if with my latest breath

I may but gasp thy name;

Preach thee in life, and cry in death,

Behold, behold the Lamb!”

The world his abject poverty

And low estate disdain,

And nothing great in Jesus see,

The humble Son of Man.

But we who Christ aright have known,

And seen with inward eyes,

Adore him as th’ Almighty One

Who made both earth and skies.

Behold the sin-atoning Lamb,

With wonder, gratitude, and love:

To take away our guilt and shame,

See him descending from above.



Our sins and griefs on him were laid;

He meekly bore the mighty load;

Our ransom-price he fully paid

In groans and tears, in sweat and blood.



To save a guilty world he dies;

Sinners, behold the bleeding Lamb!

To him lift up your longing eyes,

And hope for mercy in his name.

Of old at Cana’s marriage feast

As guest behold the Lord!

Joy from his gentle presence flowed,

And plenty from his word.

He check’d no gladness, such as might

The Christian’s heart become;

From him no shadow ever fell

Upon a Christian home.

And so let all our festal joy

Be in his presence found,

And so let every spot on earth

Be counted “holy ground.”

Not all the outward forms on earth,

Nor rites that God has given,

Nor will of man, nor blood, nor birth,

Can raise a soul to heaven.

The sovereign will of God alone

Creates us heirs of grace;

Born in the image of his Son,

A new peculiar race.

The Spirit, like some heavenly wind,

Blows on the sons of flesh;

Creates a new—a heavenly mind,

And forms the man afresh.

Our quicken’d souls awake and rise

From the long sleep of death;

On heavenly things we fix our eyes,

And praise employs our Breath.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,

Behold I freely give

The living water—thirsty one,

Stoop down, and drink, and live.”

I came to Jesus, and I drank

Of that life-giving stream;

My thirst was quench’d, my soul revived,

And now I live in him.

Fain would I be often reading

In the ancient holy Book,

Of my Saviour’s gentle pleading,

Truth in every word and look.

How to all the sick and tearful

Help was ever gladly shown;

How he sought the poor and fearful,

Called them brothers and his own.

Still I read the ancient story,

And my joy is ever new,

How for us he left his glory,

How he still is kind and true.

How the flock he gently leadeth,

Whom his Father gave him here;

How his arms he widely spreadeth

To his heart to draw us near.

Our flesh and sense must be denied,

Passion and envy, lust, and pride,

Whilst justice, temp’rance, truth, and love,

Our inward piety approve.



Tender and kind be all our thoughts,

Through all our lives let mercy run:

Since God forgives our numerous faults,

For the dear sake of Christ his Son.