Jesu, Thy Blood and Righteousness

Jesu, Thy blood and righteousness
My beauty are, my glorious dress:
’Midst flaming worlds, in these array’d,
With joy shall I lift up my head.

Bold shall I stand in Thy great day;
For who aught to my charge shall lay?
Fully through these absolved I am
From sin and fear, from guilt and shame.

The deadly writing now I see
Nail’d with Thy body to the tree:
Torn with the nails that pierced Thy hands,
The old covenant no longer stands.

Though, sign’d and written with my blood,
As hell’s foundations sure it stood,
Thine hath wash’d out the crimson stains,
And white as snow my soul remains.

Satan, thy due reward survey;
The Lord of Life why didst thou slay?
To tear the prey out of thy teeth;
To spoil the realms of hell and death.

The holy, the unspotted Lamb,
Who from the Father’s bosom came,
Who died, for me, even me, to atone,
Now for my Lord and God I own.

Lord, I believe the precious blood
Which at the mercy-seat of God
For ever doth for sinners plead,
For me, even for my soul, was shed.

Lord, I believe, were sinners more
Than sands upon the ocean-shore,
For all Thou hast the ransom given,
Purchased for all peace, life, and heaven.

Lord, I believe the price is paid,
For every soul the atonement made;
And every soul Thy grace may prove,
Loved with an everlasting love.

Carnal, and sold to sin, no more
I am; hell’s tyranny is o’er:
The immortal seed remains within,
And, born of God, I cannot sin.

Yet nought whereof to boast I have;
All, all Thy mercy freely gave;
No works, no righteousness are mine;
All is Thy work, and only Thine.

When from the dust of death I rise
To claim my mansion in the skies,
Even then, this shall be all my plea,
"Jesus hath lived, hath died for me."

Thus Abraham, the friend of God,
Thus all heaven’s armies bought with blood,
Saviour of sinners Thee proclaim;
Sinners, of whom the chief I am.

Naked from Satan did I flee,
To Thee, my Lord, and put on Thee:
And thus adorn’d, I wait the word,
"He comes: arise, and meet thy Lord."

This spotless robe the same appears
When ruin’d nature sinks in years:
No age can change its constant hue;
Thy blood preserves it ever new.

When Thou shalt call in that great day
For my account, thus will I say:
"Thanks to my gracious Lord, if aught
Of good I did, glad I it wrought.

"And while I felt Thy blood within
Cleansing my soul from every sin,
Purging each fierce and foul desire;
I joy’d in the refining fire.

"If pride, desire, wrath stirr’d anew,
Swift to my sure resort I flew:
See there my Lord upon the tree!
Hell heard: instant my soul was free."

Then shall heaven’s hosts with loud acclaim
Give praise and glory to the Lamb,
Who bore our sins, and by His blood
Hath made us kings and priests to God.

O ye, who joy to feed His sheep,
Ever in your remembrance keep,
Empty they are, and void of God,
Till brought to the atoning blood.

Jesu, be endless praise to Thee,
Whose boundless mercy hath for me,
For me, and all Thy hands have made,
An everlasting ransom paid.

Ah, give me now, all-gracious Lord,
With power to speak Thy quickening word;
That all who to Thy wounds will flee
May find eternal life in Thee.

Thou God of power, Thou God of love,
Let the whole world Thy mercy prove:
Now let Thy word o’er all prevail;
Now take the spoils of death and hell.

O, let the dead now hear Thy voice;
Now bid Thy banish’d ones rejoice;
Their beauty this, their glorious dress,
Jesu, Thy blood and righteousness!

—Nicolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf, 1700 - 1760, Das Gesang-Buch der Gemeine in Herrn-Huth, appendix 8

Donald the Dub

Listen to the tale of a stalwart male

Who lost his well known Nanny

Donald was his name and golf was the game

That made him grey as his Granny

He practised much but his style was such

That his handicap stayed at thirty

All the words he used when the ball he bruised

Were nothing else than dirty.

In the locker room every night

He’d sing of his awful plight

Oh! The dirty little pill went rolling down the hill

And rolled right into a bunker

From there to the green I took thirteen

And there by gosh I sunk ‘er.

I get no fun in the air and sun

But down in the traps I labour

I sweat and weep where the sand is deep

Till I want to murder my neighbour.

(Spoken)

(thwack!) Oh! Baby, look at that drive. Wheee!

Now whoa, whoa. Whoa you… (out of bounds)

Alright, caddy, give me another ball.

There was one great day that came his way

His score he was sure to diminish

Never had such form, then up came a storm

He was never able to finish

He had a slice that was far from nice

From him it never parted

Once a year that shot, believe it or not

Came right back where it started.

Do you wonder that he groans

And sighs and wails and moans.

Oh! The dirty little pill went rolling down the hill

And rolled right into the water

And the reason it would seem, I lifted my beam

When I know I shouldn’t oughter.

Then I hit a shot that I liked a lot

But it sailed right into the marshes

And I wished right then, like a lot of other men

That I had worn my galoshes.

Hey, Donald, how many shots did you take over in that rock pile?

Let me see, one two three, er six I believe.

Oh! You dirty so-and-so. I counted twelve times I heard your club hit something.

Well, er, the other six were echoes.

Now Donald the Dub joined the country club

And found a fellow duffer

Just as bad as he, so with shouts of glee

They started out to suffer.

They played nine holes, and the poor little moles

Were never scared so badly

For the divots flew, and the cuss words too

And the birds and the bees left gladly

As the end of the day drew nigh

Came a song that was sung with a sigh

Oh! The dirty little pill went rolling down the hill

And rolled right into the club house

When I got there with sand in my hair

They changed it’s name to the Dub house.

I’ve wrecked more ground than Columbus found

And the guy that I am after

Is the crazy scot who invented this plot,

That’s robbed all the world of laughter

Now Donald the Dub broke club after club

As he told the world goodbye

For he suffered every hour when his game went sour

Even as you and I.

—Frank Crumit, sung in BBC's adaption of P.G. Wodehouse's The Oldest Member.