Alfred H. Miles, ed. The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907.
By Hymns. VI. O show me not my Saviour dyingJosiah Conder (17891855)
O
As on the cross He bled;
Nor in the tomb, a captive lying,
For He has left the dead:
Then bid me not that form extended
For my Redeemer own,
Who, to the highest heavens ascended,
In glory fills the throne.
Weep only for thy sins.
View where He lay with exultation,—
’Tis there our hope begins:
Yet stay not there, thy sorrows feeding,
Amid the scenes He trod;
Look up, and see Him interceding
At the right hand of God.
Where His dear blood was spilt;
For there the great Propitiatory
Abolished all my guilt.
Yet what, ’mid conflict and temptation,
Shall strength and succour give?
He lives, the Captain of Salvation;
Therefore His servants live.
And overcame the grave;
Rising, the triumph He completed;
He lives, He reigns to save.
Heaven’s happy myriads bow before Him;
He comes, the Judge of men;
These eyes shall see Him, and adore Him:
Lord Jesus, own me then.