Songs 44

¹Behold the Saviour on the cross,

a spectacle of woe!

See from his agonizing wounds

the blood incessant flow;

²Till death’s pale ensigns o’er his cheek

and trembling lips were spread;

Till light forsook his closing eyes,

and life his drooping head!

³’Tis finish’d — was his latest voice;

these sacred accents o’er,

He bow’d his head, gave up the ghost,

and suffer’d pain no more.

⁴’Tis finish’d — The Messiah dies

for sins, but not his own;

The great redemption is complete,

and Satan’s pow’r o’erthrown.

⁵’Tis finish’d — All his groans are past;

his blood, his pain, and toils,

Have fully vanquished our foes,

and crown’d him with their spoils.

⁶’Tis finish’d — Legal worship ends,

and gospel ages run;

All old things now are past away,

and a new world begun.