Printed in an early Advent Review with the following information:
From the French, by Maria Weston Chapman
“—- a strain which I could fancy tradition to have handed down through the ranks of French Protestantism, from the Albigenses and the Vaudois—the Calvinists and the Huguenots; being so eminently human in its passion and its power, as to satisfy the universal cry of the human, heart for self-devotedness worthy of adoration.” – Liberty Bell, 1845.
Mortals! Are ye fain to know
What is all my hope below,
All my knowledge, all my sense,
My treasure and my recompense?
Jesus the crucified.
What the anchor of my faith?
What the law my nature hath?
What the perfect Sacrifice,
On whose power my heart relies?
Jesus the crucified.
Who doth mediate between
God my Maker and my sin?
In my sorrows and my fears,
Who hath looked upon my tears?
Jesus the crucified.
In my days of bitter grief,
Who alone can give relief?
While my troubled watches keeping,
What divine One stays my weeping?
Jesus the crucified.
Who my fainting spirit sees,
Giving me for torment ease?
Who, when grief and pain must be,
Fills my soul with constancy?
Jesus the crucified.
Prince of Peace—say who is he
That with blessings crowneth me?
Whose the love that hither came
To fire my spirit with its flame?
Jesus the crucified.
Who is he whose death has brought
To my life a higher thought?
Who the friend that calleth me
To himself unceasingly?
Jesus the crucified.
Who is he, triumphant One,
Reigning in my heart alone,
That from deepest suffering ever
Does my o’erfraught soul deliver?
Jesus the crucified.
Who, when untried ways are mine,
Offers me his torch divine?
What the pure and living light,
Making all my pathway bright?
Jesus the crucified.
Ah! Together celebrate,
All the Saviour’s blessings great,
And a hymn of joy outpour,
Singing, saying evermore,
Jesus the crucified.
