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Show VERSES ON THE PASSION. Thyself, dear Christ, hath borne great wounds from love; Love made . Thee leave Thy precious throne above. And from a lovely maiden take Thy birth, And like u weary pilgrim tread this earth; Urged on by love. Thou didst descend mi low As through the world, contemned by all. to go. In all Thy work sweet love was ever shown. It seemed as though Thyself and love were one. Within the Temple, Thou, O Lord, didst cry: Let every one who yearns for love draw nigh, Let all who long their burning thirst to slake. Draw near to Me, and love's refreshment take, Into their heart I'll pour love's waves so bright. A boundless love shall seize them with delight. What made Thee hurry to the bitter wood ? What made Thee long to save us by Thy blood? At Pilate's throne, what made Thee silence si-lence keep? What plunged Thy soul in sorrow, oh, so deep? "Twhs love alone. O gontle, silent Dove, Thou e'en didst die upon a cross of love. O Jesus1. Lord, Thy wisdom was conceal con-ceal ed. Thy boundless love alone itself revealed; Thy power divine was hidden out of sight, For love, not strength, was summoned to the tight. And while Thy body hung upon the tree. With fondest love man was carressed by Thee. |