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Oh, bliss of the purified,
bliss of the free,
I plunge in the crimson tide
opened for me;
O’er sin and uncleanness
exulting I stand,
And point to the print
of the nails in His hand.
Oh, sing of His mighty love,
Sing of His mighty love,
Sing of His mighty love,
Mighty to save.
Oh, bliss of the purified!
Jesus is mine,
No longer in dread
condemnation I pine;
In conscious salvation
I sing of His grace,
Who lifted upon me
the light of His face.
Oh, sing of His mighty love,
Sing of His mighty love,
Sing of His mighty love,
Mighty to save.
Oh, bliss of the purified!
bliss of the pure!
No wound hath the soul
that His blood cannot cure;
No sorrow-bowed head
but may sweetly find rest,
No tears—but may dry them
on Jesus’ breast.
Oh, sing of His mighty love,
Sing of His mighty love,
Sing of His mighty love,
Mighty to save.
O Jesus the Crucified!
Thee will I sing,
My blessèd Redeemer,
my God and my King;
My soul, filled with rapture,
shall shout o’er the grave,
And triumph in death
in the “Mighty to Save.”
Oh, sing of His mighty love,
Sing of His mighty love,
Sing of His mighty love,
Mighty to save.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
Meter:
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11 11 11 11 with refrain
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1869
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Bible Refs:
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Is 63:1;
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MUSIC
Name:
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O SING OF HIS MIGHTY LOVE
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Meter:
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11 11 11 11 with refrain
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Writer(s):
|
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Dates:
|
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echo ' | ';
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