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 CLXVI. 
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CLIII.

[O might the love of Jesus]

O might the love of Jesus
That heaven-descended Man
Incomparably precious,
My ransom'd heart constrain
From every earthly passion,
From every sin to part,
That God and His salvation
May take up all my heart.
O wouldst Thou, Lord, discover
Thy blessed self to me,
My soul's eternal Lover,
As bleeding on the tree;
For my offences bleeding,
Crush'd with the general load,
Yet kindly interceding
For those that shed His blood!
The realizing power
Of faith Divine I want,
To see Thee in that hour,
And hear Thy last complaint;
By hellish toils o'ertaken
To hear the' Immortal groan
Why hath My God forsaken
His dear, expiring Son!

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Let Thy own bowels move Thee
The faith of God to' impart:
I cannot, cannot love Thee,
Till Thou constrain my heart,
To flesh the stony turning,
Till Thou Thy wounds display:
And then in blissful mourning
I weep my life away!