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The Man of sorrows PART 1 |
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O ever homeless Stranger,
An outcast in manger, How rightly rose the praises When shepherds hid their faces More just those acclamations, Chanted earth’s deep foundations, Come now, and view that manger- A houseless, homeless stranger To God in the highest glory, And learn that wondrous story, How blessed those heavenly spirit, That spite of our demerits And chant the highest glory In telling out the story Oh, strange yet fit beginning In which thy grace was winning Bless’d Babe! Who lowly liest Descended from the highest, Oh suited now in nature To make the fallen creature O love, all though surpassing! Nor yet in triumph passing, We cling to thee in weakness- We gaze upon they meekness, There see the godhead glory And, willing, hear the story My soul in secret follows I trace the Man of sorrows, |
thus, dearest Friend to me; |