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Amazed, I turn, grown strangely bold;
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This wondrous thing to see;
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And there the dying Lord behold,
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Stretched on the bloody tree.
[Verse 3]
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'Sinner', he cried, 'behold the head,
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This thorny wreath entwine;
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Look on those wounded hands and read
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Thy name in crimson lines.'
[Verse 4]
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The power, the sweetness of that voice
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My stony heart does move;
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Makes me in Christ my Lord rejoice
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And melts my soul to love.
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And melts my soul to love.
Dm A Dm
And melts my soul to love.