1 Christ, the life of all the living,
Christ, the death of death, our foe;
who Thyself for me once giving
to the darkest depths of woe,
patiently didst yield Thy breath
but to save my soul from death;
praise and glory ever be,
blessed Jesus, unto Thee.

2 Thou, O Christ, hast taken on Thee
bitter strokes, a cruel rod;
pain and scorn were heaped upon Thee,
0 Thou sinless Son of God;
only thus for me to win,
rescue from the bonds of sin;
praise and glory ever be,
blessed Jesus, unto Thee.

3 Thou didst bear the smiting only
that it might not fall on me;
stoodest falsely charged and lonely
that I might be safe and free;
comfortless that I might know
comfort from Thy boundless woe;
praise and glory ever be,
blessed Jesus, unto Thee.

4 Then for all that wrought our pardon,
for the sorrows deep and sore,
for The anguish in the garden,
I will thank Thee evermore,
thank Thee with my latest breath
for Thy sad and cruel death,
for that last and bitter cry,
praise Thee evermore on high.