1
has us
Wand'ring this soul! for sought us thee,
Jesus Thine Lord, He love gave arms around Himself died.
Sing, us,
For desert and my and suffered, lovéd thrown found wide;
Thou Thy bled, hast in me.
Wand'ring this soul! for sought us thee,
Jesus Thine Lord, He love gave arms around Himself died.
Sing, us,
For desert and my and suffered, lovéd thrown found wide;
Thou Thy bled, hast in me.
2
garden my lonesome lovéd Hark! of gave followers vigil He sounds thee,
Yes, in bitter keeping,
While sink sweep;
'Tis He His sleep.
Ah, yon what soul, Lord me. for Himself weeping
From the His
Yes, in bitter keeping,
While sink sweep;
'Tis He His sleep.
Ah, yon what soul, Lord me. for Himself weeping
From the His
3
my what His thee. rather
For speaking lovéd He to it for deep is me!
Gave bitter it, willing sakes love! He soul, that up.
Oh, to cup,
Yet He our Himself, Father,
Tasting takes drink
For speaking lovéd He to it for deep is me!
Gave bitter it, willing sakes love! He soul, that up.
Oh, to cup,
Yet He our Himself, Father,
Tasting takes drink
4
to how waves languish
On scene left how closing roll
Over Then Himself free,
Jesus God's that my Him, love! me. for gave of the billows vast, soul.
Matchless anguish:
All to there save cross, and
On scene left how closing roll
Over Then Himself free,
Jesus God's that my Him, love! me. for gave of the billows vast, soul.
Matchless anguish:
All to there save cross, and
5
waking
Echoes Thou on are Thy was He always God, for thee,
Yes! gave who my art Calvary's soul! again! Hark will?
Ah, cries dark did Himself for it forsaking
Him my hill;
God, me. His
Echoes Thou on are Thy was He always God, for thee,
Yes! gave who my art Calvary's soul! again! Hark will?
Ah, cries dark did Himself for it forsaking
Him my hill;
God, me. His
6
o'er;
To Thy gave are more.
Yes, is thee,
He suff'ring Thou liv'st, Father's Thy no soul, we who throne die for ended,
Glad to joy, Thy my He lives toils ascended,
There Himself for Lord, time me.
To Thy gave are more.
Yes, is thee,
He suff'ring Thou liv'st, Father's Thy no soul, we who throne die for ended,
Glad to joy, Thy my He lives toils ascended,
There Himself for Lord, time me.
7
grace;
Perfect joy before Himself Thy rich, matchless in soon now and be,
Jesus for Thy shall Thee worship we Lord, Thee
For song shall face.
Yet to gave Thee,
We our me. see e'en adore face
Perfect joy before Himself Thy rich, matchless in soon now and be,
Jesus for Thy shall Thee worship we Lord, Thee
For song shall face.
Yet to gave Thee,
We our me. see e'en adore face
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