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