Savior, when in dust to Thee
Low we bow the ador­ing knee,
When, re­pent­ant, to the skies
Scarce we lift our weep­ing eyes,
O by all the pains and woes
Suffered once for man be­low,
Bending from Thy throne on high,
Hear our so­lemn li­ta­ny.

By Thy help­less in­fant years,
By Thy life of want and tears,
By Thy days of sore dis­tress
In the savage wild­er­ness,
By the dread mys­ter­ious hour
Of the in­sult­ing tempt­er’s pow­er,
Turn, O turn a fa­vor­ing eye,
Hear our so­lemn li­ta­ny.

By the sac­red griefs that wept
O’er the grave where La­zar­us slept,
By the bod­ing tears that flowed
Over Sa­lem’s loved abode,
By the ang­uished sigh that told
Treachery lurked with­in Thy fold,
From Thy seat above the sky,
Hear our so­lemn li­ta­ny.

By Thine hour of dire des­pair,
By Thine ago­ny of pray­er,
By the cross, the nail, the thorn,
Piercing spear, and tor­tur­ing scorn,
By the gloom that veiled the skies
O’er the dread­ful sac­ri­fice,
Listen to our hum­ble cry,
Hear our so­lemn li­ta­ny.

By Thy deep ex­pir­ing groan,
By the sad se­pul­chral stone,
By the vault whose dark abode
Held in vain the ris­ing God,
O from earth to Heav’n re­stored,
Mighty, re-as­cend­ed Lord,
Listen, list­en to the cry
Of our so­lemn li­ta­ny.