122. The Holy Lamb Has Died

P.M.
1
The holy Lamb has died,
 
A victim on the tree,
 
For sinners He was crucified,
 
To set them free;
 
He bore the righteous stroke
 
Of God's right hand of power,
 
O'er Him the waves and billows broke,
 
In that dark hour.
2
Our sins were on Him laid,
 
He bowed beneath the load,
 
By Him the mighty debt was paid—
 
The debt we owed;
 
Now see Him on the throne
 
Who once on Calvary bled,
 
The One who did for guilt atone,
 
O'er all as Head.
3
The Father runs to meet
 
His lost and guilty son;
 
The robe, the ring, the sandaled feet,
 
Tell what He's done;
 
"The fatted calf bring here,
 
'Tis meet we merry be,
 
My son far off, is now brought near—
 
Rejoice with Me."
4
Come, guilty sinner, come,
 
Why wilt thou still delay?
 
Within the Father's house there's room,
 
Christ is the way;
 
The Father's kiss still waits,
 
For thee His heart doth mourn,
 
And open wide are thrown the gates,
 
Return! return!