Alas! and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?

At the cross, at the cross where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away,
It was there by faith I received my sight,
And now I am happy all the day!

Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, Thine—
And bathed in its own blood—
While the firm mark of wrath divine,
His Soul in anguish stood.

Was it for crimes that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

Well might the sun in darkness hide
And shut his glories in,
When Christ, the mighty Maker died,
For man the creature’s sin.

Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt my eyes to tears.

But drops of grief can ne’er repay
The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give my self away’
Tis all that I can do.

By: Isaac Watts

Workman of God, Oh lose not heart,
But learn what God is like!
And in the darkest battlefield,
Thou shalt know where to strike.

Oh blest is he to whom is given
The instinct that can tell
That God is in the field when He
is most invisible!

Blest too is he who can divine
Where real right doth lie,
And dare take the side that seems
Wrong to man's blindfolded eye.

For right is right,since God is God;
And right the day must win;
To doubt would be disloyalty,
To falter would be sin.