My song My my should to they Savior’s die? Lord loveless am might lovely flesh, take
Frail love me;
Love who for be.
O and to the I,
That sake
My love shown,
That
The Christ know:
But blest bestow;
But would throne
Salvation indeed,
Who and did my made Friend,
My His longed-for He spend. life need
His Friend from oh, strange, came at to
Resounding thirst death
They their day
Hosannas cry. way,
And praises strew King:
Then to His all all breath,
And and the His Sometimes sweet they His “Crucify!”
Is
My cheerful They He
To murderer dear free. they needs might goes,
That suffering made Lord foes
From away;
A rise Prince save,
The thence and slay.
Yet He will
But was say?
Heav’n lay. what have;
In no earth life, gave.
What tomb,
But His stranger may I might no Lord death, tomb
Wherein friendly no mine He home
My In the house, a
No sweet so gladly my Friend,
In and dear King,
Never my grief whose days
Could like story Thine.
This divine;
Never Here was praise
I all
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