Now, My Soul, Thy Voice Upraising (EN 2401)

EN 2401 Now, My Soul, Thy Voice Upraising

Isa.53.5

Versi Version 1

1

Now, my soul, thy voice upraising,

Tell in sweet and mournful strain

How the Crucified, enduring

Grief, and wounds, and dying pain,

Freely of His love was offered,

Sinless was for sinners slain.

2

Scourged with unrelenting fury

For the sins which we deplore,

By His livid stripes He heals us,

Raising us to fall no more;

All our bruises gently soothing,

Binding up the bleeding sore.

3

See! His hands and feet are fastened

So He makes His people free;

Not a wound whence blood is flowing

But a fount of grace shall be;

Yea the very nails which nail Him

Nail us also to the tree.

4

Through His heart the spear is piercing,

Though His foes have seen Him die;

Blood and water thence are streaming

In a tide of mystery,

Water from our guilt to cleanse us,

Blood to win us crowns on high.

5

Jesu, may those precious fountains

Drink to thirsting souls afford:

Let them be our cup and healing,

And at length our full reward;

So a ransomed world shall ever

Praise Thee, its redeeming Lord.

OK

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