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Thorn-crowned His blessed head,
Blood-stained His every tread;
Cross-laden He was led,
For me! For me!
Pierced His hands and feet,
Three hours o'er Him beat
Fierce rays of noon-tide heat,
For me! For me!
Thus wert Thou made all mine;
Lord, make me wholly Thine;
Grant grace and strength divine
To me! To me!
In thought and word and deed,
Thy will to do, O lead
My soul, e'en though it bleed,
To Thee, to Thee.
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