O Lord most holy! can it be
That Thou shouldst suffer thus for me,
Bereft of consolation?
Lord, what is man, that from above,
Thou shouldst descend, in wondrous love,
To die for our salvation?
Blessèd Jesu! I adore Thee, and before Thee
Thou wast slain by my transgression.
Thee crowned with thorns my faith adores:
Thee on the cross my soul implores—
In death Thy foes subduing!
There Paradise is still Thy own;
Thy power upon the cross is shown,
There all our hope renewing!
Now Thy sorrows, Lord, shall grieve me, yet relieve me,
Life and healing
To my wounded spirit sealing.
Ah, how shall I such love requite,
To Thou, my Lord, my life, my light,
No pains for me disdaining?
I yield myself, my all to Thee;
Henceforth, O Jesu, dwell in me,
O’er all within me reigning.
Holy Jesu! King of glory! I implore Thee,
Comfort send me;
Jesus! unto death attend me.