1 Flow fast, my tears; the cause is great;
This tribute claims an injur'd freind:
One whom I long pursu'd with hate,
And yet he lov'd me to the end.
When death his terrors round me spread,
And aim'd his arrows at my head,
Christ interpos'd; the wound he bore,
And bade the monster dare no more.
2 Fast flow, my tears, yet faster flow;
Stream copious as yon purple tide;
'Twas I that dealt the deadly blow,
I urg'd the hand that pierc'd his side.
Ken pangs and agonizing smart,
Oppress his soul, and rend his heart;
While justice, arm'd with pow'r divine,
Pours on his head what's due to mine.
3 Fast, and yet faster, flow my tears,
Love breaks the heart, and drains the eyes
His visage marr'd, tow'rds heav'n he rears,
And, pleading for his murd'rer dies!
My grief nor measure knows, nor end,
Till he appears the sinner's friend!
And gives me in an happy hour,
To feel the risen Saviour's pow'r.
Source: A Collection of Evangelical Hymns #XXVII
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