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Isaac Watts - Hymn 16Isaac Watts - Hymn 16
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The agonies of Christ. Now let our pains be all forgot, Our hearts no more repine; Our suff`rings are not worth a thought, When, Lord, compared with thine. In lively figures here we see The bleeding Prince of love; Each of us hope, he died for me, And then our griefs remove. [Our humble faith here takes her rise, While sitting round his board; And back to Calvary she flies, To view her groaning Lord. His soul, what agonies it felt When his own God withdrew; And the large load of all our guilt Lay heavy on him too! But the Divinity within Supported him to bear; Dying, he conquered hell and sin, And made his triumph there.] Grace, wisdom, justice joined and wrought The wonders of that day; No mortal tongue, nor mortal thought, Can equal thanks repay. Our hymns should sound like those above, Could we our voices raise; Yet, Lord, our hearts shall all be love, And all our lives be praise.
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