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And Jesus saith unto him, The foxes have holes, and the birds of
the air have nests; but the read more
And Jesus saith unto him, The foxes have holes, and the birds of
the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his
head.
Fra Lippo, we have learned from thee
A lesson of humanity:
To every mother's heart forlorn,
read more
Fra Lippo, we have learned from thee
A lesson of humanity:
To every mother's heart forlorn,
In every house the Christ is born.
All His glory and beauty come from within, and there He delights
to dwell, His visits there are frequent, read more
All His glory and beauty come from within, and there He delights
to dwell, His visits there are frequent, His conversation sweet,
His comforts refreshing; and His peace passing all understanding.
And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
For read more
And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore.
There is a green hill far away,
Without a city wall,
Where the dear Lord was crucified
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There is a green hill far away,
Without a city wall,
Where the dear Lord was crucified
Who died to save us all.
Lovely was the death
Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power,
He on the thought-benighted read more
Lovely was the death
Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power,
He on the thought-benighted Skeptic beamed
Manifest Godhead.
In every pang that rends the heart
The Man of Sorrows had a part.
In every pang that rends the heart
The Man of Sorrows had a part.
Christ beside me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ
within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.
Christ beside me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ
within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.
Hail, O bleeding Head and wounded,
With a crown of thorns surrounded,
Buffeted, and bruised and battered,
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Hail, O bleeding Head and wounded,
With a crown of thorns surrounded,
Buffeted, and bruised and battered,
Smote with reed by striking shattered,
Face with spittle vilely smeared!
Hail, whose visage sweet and comely,
Marred by fouling stains and homely,
Changed as to its blooming color,
All now turned to deathly pallor,
Making heavenly hosts affeared!