I

O Christ, when on the shameful tree,

Thou bor’st such cruel pain for me,

Thine every member felt the smart,

And sent its sorrows to Thy heart.

II

A crown of thorns Thy temples tore,

Thy face, O Christ, vile spittings bore,

And cruel hands, O action base!

Smote Thee, defiant, in the face.

III

When in Thy thirst, men heard Thee call,

Thy lips were drenched with bitter gall;

And to Thine ears the words were borne

Of blasphemy and ribald scorn.

IV

Thy hands and feet with nails were riven,

The spear into Thy side was driven;—

O Christ, when dying on the tree,

How great the pain Thou bor’st for me!

V

Now, by Thy Cross, Almighty King,

Salvation to the sinner bring,

And let Thy sacrifice for me

Teach me to sacrifice for Thee.