On my heart imprint Thine image,
Blessèd Jesus, King of Grace,
That life’s riches, cares and pleasures
Have no power Thee to efface.
This the superscription be:
Jesus, crucified for me,
Is my Life, my hope’s Foundation,
And my Glory and Salvation.

Jesus, Thou art the sinner’s Friend;
As such I look to Thee;
Now, in the fullness of Thy love,
O Lord, remember me.

Remember Thy pure Word of grace,
Remember Calvary’s tree,
Remember all Thy dying groans,
And then remember me.

Thou wondrous Advocate with God,
I yield my soul to Thee;
While Thou art pleading on the throne,
Dear Lord, remember me.

Lord, I am guilty, I am vile,
But Thy salvation’s free;
Then, in Thine all abounding grace,
Dear Lord, remember me.

Howe’er forsaken or despised,
Howe’er oppressed I be,
Howe’er forgotten here on earth,
Do Thou remember me.

And when I close my eyes in death,
And human help shall flee,
Then, then, my dear redeeming God,
O then remember me.

“Lord, when Thy kingdom comes, remember me”;
Thus spake the dying lips to dying ears;
O faith, which in that darkest hour could see
The promised glory of the far off years!

No kingly sign declares that glory now,
No ray of hope lights up that awful hour;
A thorny crown surrounds the bleeding brow,
The hands are stretched in weakness, not in power.

Yet hear the word the dying Savior saith,
“Thou too shalt rest in Paradise today”;
O words of love to answer words of faith!
O words of hope for those who live to pray!

Lord, when with dying lips my prayer is said,
Grant that in faith Thy kingdom I may see;
And, thinking on Thy cross and bleeding head,
May breathe my parting words, “Remember me.”

Remember me, but not my shame or sin;
Thy cleansing blood hath washed them all away;
Thy precious death for me did pardon win;
Thy blood redeemed me in that awful day.

Remember me, yet how canst Thou forget
What pain and anguish I have caused to Thee,
The cross, the agony, the bloody sweat,
And all the sorrow Thou didst bear for me?

Remember me, and, ere I pass away,
Speak Thou th’assuring word that sets us free,
And make Thy promise to my heart, “Today
Thou too shalt rest in Paradise with Me.”

The dying robber raised his aching brow
To claim the dying Lord for company;
And heard, in answer to his trembling bow,
The promise of the King: Thou—even thou—
Today shalt be in Paradise with me.

We, too, the measure of our guilt confess,
Knowing Thy mercy, Lord, our only plea;
That we, like him, through judgment and distress,
For all the weight of our unworthiness
May win our way to Paradise with Thee.

But so bewildered is our failing heart,
So dim the luster of Thy royalty,
We hardly know Thee, Lord, for what Thou art,
Till we begin to take the better part
And lose ourselves in Paradise with Thee.

Then lift our eyes, dear Lord, from this poor dross,
To see Thee reigning in humility,
The King of love; that, wresting gain from loss,
We, too, may climb the ladder of the cross,
To find our home in Paradise with Thee.

Father of spirits, whose divine control
Doth bind the soul and body into one;
Thou wilt restore this body now undone;
For once it was the mansion of a soul,
Where dwelt the glowing wisdom of Thy Son.

Thou, Maker of the body, dost ordain
That this Thine image, molded by Thy will,
Our every hope in glory shall fulfill;
So, till the body Thou dost build again,
Thou wilt preserve the spirit freed from ill.

In that blest region shall this spirit dwell
Where flowers undying bloom on every side:
For lo, we trust Thy Word, O Crucified,
When in Thy triumph over death and hell,
The thief forgiven took Thee for his Guide.

Our brother goeth by the shining way,
That ever to the faithful open lies:
Lord, train Thy servant now in Paradise,
And bless him in his fatherland, we pray,
Till Thou shalt bid his body to arise.

Our sister goeth by the shining way,
That ever to the faithful open lies:
Lord, train Thy servant now in Paradise,
And bless her in her fatherland, we pray,
Till Thou shalt bid her body to arise.

The hand that was nailed to the cross of woe,
In love reaches out to the world below;
’Tis beckoning now to the souls that roam,
And pointing the way to the heav’nly home.

Refrain

The hand of my Savior I see,
The hand that was wounded for me;
’Twill lead me in love to the mansions above,
The hand that was wounded for me!

E’en now I can see, through a mist of tears,
That hand still outstretched o’er the gulf of years,
With healing and hope for my sin sick soul,
One touch of its finger will make me whole!

Refrain

The hand that wrought wonders in days of old,
Holds treasure more precious than gems or gold,
The price of redemption from sin and shame,
The gift of salvation through Jesus’ Name.

Refrain

It is finished! Blessèd Jesus,
Thou hast breathed Thy latest sigh,
Teaching us the sons of Adam
How the Son of God can die.

Lifeless lies the broken body,
Hidden in its rocky bed,
Laid aside like folded garment:
Where is now the Spirit fled?

In the gloomy realms of darkness
Shines a light unknown before,
For the Lord of dead and living
Enters at the open door.

See! He comes, a willing Victim,
Unresisting hither led;
Passing from the cross of sorrow
To the mansions of the dead.

Lo! the heavenly light around Him
Ad He draws His people near;
All amazed they stand rejoicing
At the gracious words they hear.

For Himself proclaims the story
Of His own incarnate life,
And the death He died to save us,
Victor in that awful strife.

Patriarch and priest and prophet
Gather round Him as He stands,
In adoring faith and gladness,
Hearing of the piercèd hands.

Oh, the bliss to which He calls them,
Ransomed by His precious blood,
From the gloomy realms of darkness
To the paradise of God!

There in lowliest joy and wonder
Stands the robber at His side,
Reaping now the blessèd promise
Spoken by the Crucified.

Jesus, Lord of dead and living,
Let Thy mercy rest on me;
Grant me, too, when life is finished,
Rest in paradise with Thee.

The saints of God! their conflict past,
And life’s long battle won at last,
No more they need the shield or sword,
They cast them down before their Lord:
O happy saints! forever blest,
At Jesus feet’ how safe your rest!

The saints of God! their wand’rings done,
No more their weary course they run,
No more they faint, no more they fall,
No foes oppress, no fears appall:
O happy saints! forever blest,
In that dear home how sweet your rest!

The saints of God! life’s voyage o’er,
Safe landed on that blissful shore,
No stormy tempests now they dread,
No roaring billows lift their head:
O happy saints! forever blest,
In that calm haven of your rest!

The saints of God their vigil keep,
While yet their mortal bodies sleep,
Till from the dust they too shall rise
And soar triumphant to the skies:
O happy saints! rejoice and sing:
He quickly comes, your Lord and King!

O God of saints! to Thee we cry;
O Savior! plead for us on high;
O Holy Ghost! our Guide and Friend,
Grant us Thy grace till life shall end;
That with all the saints our rest may be
In that bright paradise with Thee!

Behold the Savior of mankind
Nailed to the shameful tree!
How vast the love that Him inclined
To bleed and die for thee!

Though far unequal our low praise
To Thy vast sufferings prove,
O Lamb of God, thus all our days,
Thus will we grieve and love.

Hark, how He groans, while nature shakes,
And earth’s strong pillars bend;
The temple’s veil in sunder breaks,
The solid marbles rend.

“’Tis done!” The precious ransom’s paid,
“Receive My soul,” He cries!
See where He bows His sacred head!
He bows His head, and dies!

But soon He’ll break death’s envious chain,
And in full glory shine:
O Lamb of God! was ever pain,
Was ever love, like Thine?

Thy loss our ruin did repair;
Death by death is slain;
Thou wilt at length exalt us where
Thou dost in glory reign.

Lord, remove the veil away,
Let us see Thyself today:
Thou Who camest from on high,
For our sins to bleed and die,
Help us now to cast aside
All that would our hearts divide;
With the Father and the Son,
Let Thy living Church be one.

Oh, from earthly cares set free,
Let us find our rest in Thee;
May our toils and conflicts cease
In the calm of Sabbath peace;
That Thy people here below
Something of the bliss may know,
Something of the rest and love,
In the Sabbath-home above.

Give our souls the spotless dress
Of Thy perfect righteousness;
So at length each welcome guest
Then shall enter to the feast,
Take the harp and raise the song,
All Thy ransomed ones among;
Earthly cares and sorrows o’er,
Joys to last forevermore.

And now, belovèd Lord, Thy Soul resigning,
Into Thy Father’s arms with conscious will,
Calmly, with reverend grace, Thy head inclining,
The throbbing brow and laboring breast grow still.

Freely Thy life Thou yieldest, meekly bending
E’en to the last beneath our sorrows’ load,
Yet strong in death, in perfect peace commending,
Thy Spirit to Thy Father and Thy God.

My Savior, in mine hour of mortal anguish,
When earth grows dim, and round me falls the night,
O breathe Thy peace, as flesh and spirit languish,
At that dread eventide let there be light.

To Thy dear cross turn Thou my eyes in dying;
Lay but my fainting head upon Thy breast;
Those outstretched arms receive my latest sighing;
And then, oh! then, Thine everlasting rest.

O love! o’er mortal agony victorious,
Now is Thy triumph! now that cross shall shine
To earth’s remotest age revered and glorious,
Of suffering’s deepest mystery the sign.

The present, past and future here are blending,
Moment supreme in this world’s history,
Mid darkness, opening graves, and mountains rending,
New light is dawning on humanity.

Into Thy gracious hands I fall,
And with the arms of faith embrace;
O King of glory, hear my call!
O raise me, heal me by Thy grace!

Arm me with Thy whole armor, Lord,
Support my weakness with Thy might;
Gird on my thigh Thy conquering sword,
And shield me in the threatening fight.

From faith to faith, from grace to grace,
So in Thy strength shall I go on,
Till heaven and earth flee from Thy face,
And glory end what grace begun.

Wide open are Thy hands,
Paying with more than gold
The awful debt of guilty men,
Forever and of old.
Ah, let me grasp those hands,
That we may never part,
And let the power of their blood
Sustain my fainting heart.

Wide open are Thine arms,
A fallen world to embrace;
To take to love and endless rest
Our whole forsaken race.
Lord, I am sad and poor,
But boundless is Thy grace;
Give me the soul transforming joy
For which I seek Thy face.

Draw all my mind and heart
Up to Thy throne on high,
And let Thy sacred cross exalt
My spirit to the sky.
To these, Thy mighty hands,
My spirit I resign;
Living, I live alone to Thee,
Dying, alone am Thine.