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