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THE WORKS OF CHRISTOPHER DOCK
5. |
Oh, Jesus, let Thy sorrow, |
Thy bitter pain of death |
On me, when I must part, |
Be not in vain. |
Grant to us Thy grace, |
When life's end draws nigh, |
And when I pass death's dark vale, |
Then lend to me Thy guiding hand. |
6. |
Oh Jesus, give to me |
Such a little drop of blood |
As there upon the naked earth, |
At the cross doth lie; |
May this rose-colored blood, |
Come to me a sacred boon, |
When once this soul of mine, |
Shall leave behind this mortal coil. |