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5 Jesus, may her deep devotion Stir in me the same emotion,

Fount of love, Redeemer kind; That my heart fresh ardour gaining, And a purer love attaining, May with thee acceptance find. Amen.

Latin, 12th cent.; Tr. Richard Mant, 1833, and Edward Caswall, 1849, cento


LORY be to Jesus,

Who in bitter pains
Poured for me the life-blood

From his sacred veins!


2 Grace and life eternal

In that blood I find,
Blest be his compassion

Infinitely kind!

3 Blest through endless ages

Be the precious stream,
Which from sin and sorrow

Doth the world redeem!

4 Abel's blood for vengeance

Pleaded to the skies;
But the blood of Jesus

For our pardon cries.

5 Oft as earth exulting

Wafts its praise on high,
Angel hosts, rejoicing,

Make their glad reply.

6 Lift ye then your voices;

Swell the mighty flood;
Louder still and louder
Praise the precious blood. Amen.

Italian; Tr. Edward Caswall, 1857, alt

Also the following 409 When our heads are bowed with woe

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2 [Heavy that cross to him,

Weary the weight;
One who will help him waits

At the gate.

3 See! they are traveling

On the same road;
Simon is sharing with

Him the load.]

4 O whither wandering

Bear they that tree?
He who first carries it,

Who is he?


5 Follow to Calvary;

Tread where he trod,
He who for ever was

Son of God.

6 [You who would love him stand,

Gaze at his face:
Tarry awhile on your

Earthly race.

7 As the swift moments fly

Through the blest week,
Read the great story the

Cross will teach.]

8 Is there no beauty to

You who pass by,
In that lone figure which

Marks that sky?


9 On the cross lifted

Thy face we scan,
Bearing that cross for us,

Son of man.

10 Thorns form thy diadem,

Rough wood thy throne;
For us thy blood is shed,

Us alone.

11 No pillow under thee

To rest thy head;
Only the splintered cross

Is thy bed.

12 [Nails pierced thy hands and feet,

Thy side the spear;
No voice is nigh to say

Help is near.
13 Shadows of midnight fall,

Though it is day:
Thy friends and kinsfolk stand

Far away

14 Loud is thy bitter cry;

Sunk on thy breast
Hangeth thy bleeding head

Without rest.
15 Loud scoffs the dying thief,

Who mocks at thee:
Can it, my Saviour, be

All for me?
16 Gazing, afar from thee,

Silent and lone,
Stand those few weepers thou

Callest thine own. 17 I see thy title, Lord,

Inscribed above;
“Jesus of Nazareth,”

King of Love.] 18 What, O my Saviour,

Here didst thou see,
Which made thee suffer and

Die for me?

19 Child of my grief and pain,

Watched by my love;
I came to call thee to

Realms above.

20 I saw thee wandering

Far off from me:
In love I seek for thee;

Do not flee.

21 For thee my blood I shed,

For thee alone;
I came to purchase thee,

For mine own.

22 Weep thou not for my grief,

Child of my love:
Strive to be with me in

Heaven above.]

V. THE RESPONSE 23 0 I will follow thee,

Star of my soul,
Through the deep shades of life

To the goal.

24 Yea, let thy cross be borne

Each day by me;
Mind not how heavy, if

But with thee.

25 Lord, if thou only wilt,

Make us thine own;
Give no companion, save

Thee alone.

26 Grant through each day of life

To stand by thee;
With thee, when morning breaks
Ever to be. Amen.

Edward Monro, 1884 The hymn may be shortened by omitting the bracketed


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