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