99. Now, my soul, thy voice upraising

1 Now, my soul, thy voice upraising,
Tell in sweet and mournful strain,
How the Crucified enduring
Grief, and wounds, and dying pain,
Freely of His love was offered,
Sinless was for sinners slain.

2 Scourged with unrelenting fury,
For the sins which we deplore,
By His livid stripes He heals us,
Raising us to fall no more;
All our bruises gently soothing,
Binding up the bleeding sore.

3 See! His hands and feet are fastened;
So He makes His people free;
Not a wound whence blood is flowing
But a fount of grace shall be;
Yea, the very nails which nail Him
Nail us also to the tree.

4 Through His heart the spear is piercing,
Though His foes have seen Him die;
Blood and water thence are streaming
In a tide of mystery;
Water from our guilt to cleanse us,
Blood to win us crowns on high.

5 Jesu, may those precious fountains
Drink to thirsting souls afford:
Let them be our present healing,
And at length our great reward;
So a ransomed world shall ever
Praise Thee, its redeeming Lord.

Amen.

Text Information
First Line: Now, my soul, thy voice upraising
Title: Now, my soul, thy voice upraising
Author: Baker
Author: Claude de Santeuil
Meter: 8.7.8.7.8.7.
Language: English
Publication Date: 1894
Source: Paris Breviary, 1680
Notes: Tune name in index: ST. DENYS
Tune Information
Name: [Now, my soul, thy voice upraising]
Composer: W. H. Monk, Mus. Doc.
Meter: 8.7.8.7.8.7.
Key: C Major



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