It Is Finished! Blessèd Jesus

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.