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C. M.

Godly sorrow arising from the sufferings of Christ.

Alas! and did my Savior bleed?

And did my Sovereign die?

Would he devote that sacred head

For such a worm as I?

[Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, thine,

And bathed in its own blood,

While all exposed to wrath divine

The glorious Suff'rer stood!]

Was it for crimes that I had done

He groaned upon the tree?

Amazing pity! grace unknown!

And love beyond degree!

Well might the sun in darkness hide,

And shut his glories in,

When God, the mighty Maker, died

For man, the creature's sin.

Thus might I hide my blushing face,

While his dear cross appears;

Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,

And melt my eyes to tears.

But drops of grief can ne'er repay

The debt of love I owe;

Here, Lord, I give myself away;

'Tis all that I can do.

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