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HYMN CCLXII.

8.6.8.6

James Montgomery

For a Congregation of Negroes.

Our Master, Jesus, reign'd above,

The Lord of all was He;

And yet He chose to set His love,

O wondrous love! on me.

Our Master, Jesus,--bless His name!

I love to hear the sound,--

When I was lost to seek me came,

And, O thank God! He found.

Our Master, Jesus, from His birth

My sins and sorrows bore;

And while He lived, like me, on earth,

A servant's form He wore.

Our Master, Jesus, went to preach

The Gospel every where,

And by His own example teach

How we the Cross should bear.

Our Master, Jesus, O how kind

Was all He did and said!

He heal'd the sick, the lame, the blind,

And raised to life the dead,

269

Our Master, Jesus, crucified

By hands of wicked men,

Pray'd for His murderers;--then He died;

He died, but rose again.

Our Master, Jesus, suffer'd this,

The world from hell to save,

And bring to heaven's amazing bliss,

The free man and the slave.

Our Master, Jesus, takes delight

In hearts made pure within;

Though we are black, our souls are white,

When He forgives our sin.

Our Master, Jesus, who didst give

Thyself to die for me,

Grant the poor negro grace to live,

And grace to die to Thee.

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