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VII.

[O Thou, whose bowels yearn'd to see]

[_]

To—“O Love Divine.”

O Thou, whose bowels yearn'd to see
The hungry crowd that follow'd Thee
And nothing had to eat,
Pity again the famish'd throng,
Who have with Thee continued long,
And faint for want of meat.
Jesus, our outward wants relieve,
But O! the food immortal give
Our empty souls to fill;
Sustain us by Thy pardoning grace,
And bring us through this wilderness
To Thy celestial hill.