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BEHOLD, IT WAS THE CRUEL HORDE OF OUR PROUD SINS THAT SMOTE THE LORD (HYMN)

07 Feb

Behold, it was the cruel horde

Of our proud sins that smote the Lord,

And drove the undeserved dart

To wound God’s innocent, pure heart.

 

They guided the uncertain spear

The Roman soldier wielded, near;

The direful iron he thrust within

Was pointed by our mortal sin.

 

But from thy pierced side, O Christ,

Is born the Church, thy bride unpierced;

Salvation’s Ark receives a door

For all mankind, forevermore.

 

Unending grace, a sevenfold flood,

Flows forth from thence; wherein thy Blood.

O Lamb of God, can cleanse our stain

And wash our garments white again.

 

O may we not return to shame

And sin, that blessed Heart to maim;

But rather light the flame of love

Within us, like to that above.

 

Jesus, to thee be glory given,

Who from thy Heart dost grace outpour,

With Father and with Holy Spirit,

Through endless ages evermore. Amen.

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