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O King most high of earth and sky
on prostrate death thou treadest,
and with thy blood dost mark the road
whereby to heaven thou leadest.
Christ, behold thine orphaned fold,
which thou hast borne with anguish,
steeped in the tide from thy rent side:
O leave us not to languish!
The glorious gain of all thy pain
henceforth dost thou inherit;
now comes the hour, then gently shower
on us thy promised Spirit!