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