O Lamb My Lord My God My King
O Lamb, my Lord, my God, my King,
I could for-ever speak of thee!
Thy Suff’rings, and thy Conquests sing,
O! the dear Lamb, who dy’d for me.
What Suff’rings didst not thou sustain!
From hellish Chains my soul to free;
What Horrors, Grief, and unknown Pain!
O! the dear Lamb, who felt for me.
At Supper with thy Family,
Strange, hellish Pains caught hold on thee;
Them the important Hour drew nigh,
That my dear Lamb should die for me.
When to the Garden he withdrew,
How sore amaz’d and griev’d was he,
Beyond what Mortals ever knew;
O! that dear Lamb, who griev’d for me.
Prostrate himself he humbly lays;
Great ruddy Drops of Sweat I see
Fall from him, whilst he weeps and prays;
O! that dear Lamb, who pray’d for me.
They buffeted my Lord and God;
Yea, on thy Cheek, O Christ, smote thee
The Judge of Isr’el, with a Rod;
O! that dear lamb, thus smote for me.
Reviled, scourg’d, spit on, abus’d,
condemn’d to the accursed Tree,
Of all that’s vile and base accus’d;
O! that dear Lamb, accus’d for me.
The Cross they on his Shoulders lay;
To bear the same teh lamb was free,
Until, oppress’d, he faints away;
O! the dear lamb, who faints for me.
They nail’d him to the fatal Wood;
His pierced Hands and Feet I see;
From ev’ry Wound fresh Streams of Blood;
O! the dear Lamb, who bled for me.
They lift him high upon the Cross,
Naked in Blood, that all might see;
Whilst Angels gaze, and bow, and blush;
O! that dear Lamb, accurs’d for me.
‘Tis finish’d, cry’d the Lamb of God,
Then dy’d to set his Children free;
Salvation’s finish’d, cries his Blood;
O! that dear Lamb, who dy’d for me.
Down thro’ the Shades of Death he goes
His Enemies all conquer’d flee;
Triumphant over all his foes;
O! that dear Lamb, did all for me.
With Warriors Scars, deep Wounds and Blood,
Rais’d from the Dead again I see
My everlasting Lord and God,
That dearest lamb, who dy’d for me.
O! worthy Lamb, I’ll thee adore,
Let Adam’s Offpsring all agree
To praise the Lamb who dies no more,
But lives to bless both them and me.