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