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