Classic Poem

HYMN XXXVIII.

W H en Christ, at Simon's table plac'd,
His sacred doctrine taught;
A penitent behind him stood,
Whom love had thither brought.

She with devotion kiss'd his feet,
Bath'd'em with flowing eyes;
Then drys 'em with her spreading locks,
And fragrant oil applies.

'Twas love these funeral tears prepar'd
Before her Lord was dead;
Officious love supply'd the balm
Before his wounds had bled.

Her faith the virtue of his blood
Apply'd, before 'twas spilt;
To wash her soul from every stain,
And expiate her guilt.

The Saviour's sympathizing heart
Her pious sorrow feels;
Commends her faith, her love applauds,
His pard'ning grace reveals.

Thus every soul succeeds, that bows
At the redeemer's feet;
Those who repent, believe and love,
Christ at his table meet.

The motions of thy sovereign grace,
Lord, let no sin controul;
Forgiving glances from thy eyes
Will ravish every soul.

These faithful pledges of thy love
Declare thee still the same:
For these memorials of thy cross
We praise thy sacred name.