My Song is Love Unknown
My song is love unknown,
My Saviour’s love to me; Love to the loveless shown, That they might lovely be. O who am I, that for my sake My Lord should take frail flesh and die? He came from His blest throne Salvation to bestow; But men made strange, and none The longed-for Christ would know: But O! my Friend, my Friend indeed, Who at my need His life did spend. Sometimes they strew His way, And His sweet praises sing; Resounding all the day Hosannas to their King: Then “Crucify!” is all their breath, And for His death they thirst and cry. They rise and needs will have My dear Lord made away; A murderer they save, The Prince of life they slay, Yet cheerful He to suffering goes, That He His foes from thence might free. Here might I stay and sing, No story so divine; Never was love, dear King! Never was grief like Thine. This is my friend, in whose sweet praise I all my days could gladly spend. |
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