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