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Rh It was thou, who to set thy lost little ones free, Endured'st, dear Lord, thy sad death on the tree. Unnotic'd by thee not a sparrow may fall, And thy Cross is the shadow encompassing all.

O Jesu, 'mid darkness I know thou art near, Thine arm is around me, no evil I fear; Thou, Lord, while I sleep keepest watch over me, And when I wake up I am present with thee.

Thy mercies each morning and evening are new, And so should my song of thanksgiving be too; But oh, 'tis thy grace that alone can impart A grateful, a loving, a sanctified heart.

 

, whose mystic beauty tells of One Who died for me, Of earth's blooming children there are none I love like thee. Picture thou of Christ's most blessed cross To gentle, faithful eyes, Pointing brightly from a world of dross To yonder skies. 