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