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O, let us exalt our dear Lord and proclaim,
In songs of true gratitude, praise to His name!
As songs of the angels in sweetest accord,
Our thanks and our praises shall rise to the Lord.
-- Zion's Harp # 165

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O Christ, what burdens bowed Thy head!
Our load was laid on Thee;
Thou stoodest in the sinner’s stead,
Didst bear all ill for me.
A Victim led, Thy blood was shed;
Now there’s no load for me.

Death and the curse were in our cup–
O Christ, ’twas full for Thee;
But Thou hast drained the last dark drop–
’Tis empty now for me.
That bitter cup– love drank it up;
Now blessings' draught for me.

Jehovah lifted up His rod–
O Christ, it fell on Thee!
Thou wast sore stricken of Thy God;
There’s not one stroke for me
Thy tears, Thy blood, beneath it flowed;
Thy bruising healeth me.

The tempest’s awful voice was heard–
O Christ, it broke on Thee!
Thy open bosom was my ward,
It braved the storm for me.
Thy form was scarred, Thy visage marred;
Now cloudless peace for me.

Jehovah bade His sword awake–
O Christ, it woke ’gainst Thee!
Thy blood the flaming blade must slake;
Thine heart its sheath must be–
All for my sake, my peace to make;
Now sleeps that sword for me.

For me, Lord Jesus, Thou hast died,
And I have died in Thee;
Thou’rt ris’n: my bands are all untied,
And now Thou liv’st in me.
When purified, made white and tried,
Thy glory then for me!

Uploaded on July 18th, 2024 at 12:39pm and has 28 views!

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