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45t Ila


Behold what wondrous grace,
The Father hath bestow'd.
On sinners of a mortal race,
To call them sons of God.

Nor doth it yet appear,
How great we must be made;
But when we see our Savior here,
We shall be like our Head.

A hope so much devine,
My trials well endure,
May purify our souls from sin,
As Christ the Lord is pure.


Listen Download 
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/045t-ila/45t%20Ila%20synth%20text%201%20Treble%20%28f%29.mp3
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/045t-ila/45t%20Ila%20synth%20text%201%20Treble%20%28m%29.mp3
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/045t-ila/45t%20Ila%20synth%20text%202%20Alto.mp3
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/045t-ila/45t%20Ila%20synth%20text%203%20Tenor.mp3
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/045t-ila/45t%20Ila%20synth%20text%204%20Bass.mp3
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/045t-ila/45t%20Ila%20synth%20text.mp3