Hymns on the Lord's Supper, 27

Rock of Israel, cleft for me,
For us, for all mankind;
See, Thy feeblest followers see,
Who call Thy death to mind:
Sion is the weary land;
Us beneath Thy shade receive,
Grant us in the cleft to stand,
And by Thy death to live.

In this howhng wilderness,
On Calvary's steep top,
Made a curse our souls to bless,
Thou once wast lifted up;
Stricken there by Moses' rod,
Wounded with a deadly blow,
Gushing streams of life o'erflow'd
The thirsty world below.

Rivers of salvation still
Along the desert roll,
Rivers to refresh and heal
The fainting sin-sick soul;
Still the fountain of Thy blood
Stands for sinners open'd wide;
Now, even now, my Lord and God,
I wash me in Thy side.

Now, even now, we all plunge in,
And drink the purple wave;
This the antidote of sin,
Tis this our souls shall save:
With the life of Jesus fed,
Lo! from strength to strength we rise,
Follow'd by our Rock, and led
To meet Him in the skies.
II. As it is a Sign and a Means of Grace.