| How deep The Father’s love for us
|
| how vast beyond all measure
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| that he should give his only son,
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| to make the retched treasured.
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| How great the pain, our serene loss
|
| The father turns his face away
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| As wounds which marred the chosen one,
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| Bring many sons to glory
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| Behold d man upon a cross
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| Amy sins upon his shoulders
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| Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,
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| call out among the scoffers.
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| It was my son that held him there
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| until it was accomplished
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| His dying breath has brought me life,
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| I know that it is finished.
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| I will not boast in anything,
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| no gifts no power no wisdom
|
| But I will boast in Jesus Christ
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| His death n resurrection.
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| Y should I gain from His reward,
|
| I cannot give an answer
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| But this I know with all my heart
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| his wounds have payed my ransom
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| Y should I gain from his reward
|
| I cannot give an answer
|
| But this I know with all my heart
|
| His wounds have payed my ransom
|
| END |