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4 Therefore, kind Jesus, since I cannot pay Thee,
I do adore Thee, and will ever pray Thee
Think on Thy pity and Thy love unswerving,
Not my deserving.

From Anselm (xi C.,) J. Heermann, 1630;
tr. The Yattendon Hymnal, 1899

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From the burn-ing of the noon-tide heat, And the bur- den of the day.

bo

Amen.

1

BENEATH the cross of Jesus

I fain would take my stand,

The shadow of a mighty rock
Within a weary land,

A home within the wilderness,

A rest upon the way,

From the burning of the noontide heat, And the burden of the day.

2 Upon that cross of Jesus

Mine eye at times can see The very dying form of One

Who suffered there for me;

And from my smitten heart with tears Two wonders I confess,

The wonders of His glorious love

And my own worthlessness.

3 I take, O cross, thy shadow

For my abiding-place;
I ask no other sunshine than

The sunshine of His face,-
Content to let the world go by,
To know no gain nor loss,
My sinful self my only shame,
My glory all the cross.

Elizabeth C. Clephane, 1830-69

Hans Leo Hassler, 1601; Harmonized by J. S. Bach, 1719

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1 SACRED Head, now wounded.
With grief and shame weighed down,

Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns, Thy only crown!
How art Thou pale with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish
Which once was bright as morn!

2 What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered
Was all for sinners' gain:

Mine, mine was the transgression,
But Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Saviour!
'Tis I deserve Thy place,
Look on me with Thy favor,
Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

3 What languge shall I borrow
To thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this, Thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever,
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never

Outlive my love to Thee.

4 Be near me when I'm dying,
O show Thy cross to me;
And for my succor flying,
Come, Lord, and set me free.
These eyes new faith receiving,
From Jesus shall not move,
For he, who dies believing,
Dies safely through Thy love.

Bernard of Clairvaux 1091-1153;

Paul Gerhardt, 1656; tr. J. W. Alexander, 1830, 49

ST. OLAVE Six 6s.

Joseph Barnby, 1838-96

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Thy life was giv'n for me, Thy blood, O Lord, was shed, That I might ran-som❜d be,

And quicken'd from the dead: Thy life was giv'n for me; What have I giv'n for Thee? A-men.

1 THY life was given for me,

Thy blood, O Lord, was shed,
That I might ransomed be,
And quickened from the dead:
Thy life was given for me;
What have I given for Thee?

2 Long years were spent for me
In weariness and woe,
That through eternity

Thy glory I might know:
Long years were spent for me;
Have I spent one for Thee?

3 And Thou hast brought to me
Down from Thy home above
Salvation full and free,

Thy pardon and Thy love;
Great gifts Thou broughtest me;
What have I brought to Thee? .

4 O let my life be given,

My years for Thee be spent,
World-fetters all be riven,

And joy with suffering blent!
Thou gav'st Thyself for me,
I give myself to Thee.

Frances R. Havergal, 1858, 1871

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