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 Thy savour is more precious far Than sweetest scents of spices are; The nectar that from thee distils The bosom with its fragrance fills.

Thou by Thy Cross, O, we pray, To life's reward direct our way: Who of old time upon the Tree Our Ransom didst vouchsafe to be.

The Unbegotten Praise, And the begotten we raise, And equal laud and glory be, of Both, for aye to Thee!