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