One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads Original, and suitable for music [by Jean Ingelow] |
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One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads | ||
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Who may go on with this so marvellous thing,
Love's suffering, dying, living Lord to sing?
One to the night comes forth. Behold! 'tis He
Clad in His robes of immortality.
Love's suffering, dying, living Lord to sing?
One to the night comes forth. Behold! 'tis He
Clad in His robes of immortality.
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Since He was man—then man may think as man—
He breathed a conscious calm ere joy began;
A rapture of deep rest that nothing saith,
New from the cold solemnities of death.
He breathed a conscious calm ere joy began;
A rapture of deep rest that nothing saith,
New from the cold solemnities of death.
Haply fulfill'd of peace He stood alone,
And all God's love came on Him from the throne;
The hovering mystic Dove, it may be, fell
Upon the breast of our Immanuel.
And all God's love came on Him from the throne;
The hovering mystic Dove, it may be, fell
Upon the breast of our Immanuel.
One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads | ||