CCXIV. The Redeemer's Tears wept over lest Souls.

WHAT venerable Sight appears?
The Son of GOD dissolv'd in Tears!
Trace, O my Soul, with sad Surprize,
The Sorrows of a Saviour's Eyes.

For whom, blest Jesus, we would know,
Doth such a sacred Torrent flow?
What Brother, or what Friend of thine,
Is grac'd and mourn'd with Drops divine?

Nor Brother there, nor Friend I see,
But Sons of Pride and Cruelty;
Who like rapacious Tigers stood
Insatiate panting for thy Blood.

Dear Lord, and did thy gushing Eyes
Thus stream o'er dying Enemies?
And can thy Tenderness forget
The Sinner humbled at thy Feet?

With deep Remorse our Bowels move,
That we have wrong'd such matchless Love;
Thy gentle Pity, Lord, display,
And smile these trembling Fears away.

Give us to shine before thy Face,
Eternal Trophies of thy Grace;
Where Songs of Praise thy Saints employ,
And mingle with a Saviour's Joy.