1 Sing, my tongue, the song of triumph,
tell the story far and wide.
Tell of dread and final battle,
when the Christ was crucified,
how, upon the cross a victim
vanquishing in death he died.

2 Thirty years among us dwelling,
his appointed time fulfilled,
born for this, he met his Passion,
this the Savior freely willed.
On the cross the Lamb is lifted,
where his precious blood he spilled.

3 He endured the nails, the spitting,
vinegar and spear and reed.
From that holy body broken
blood and water both proceed.
Earth and stars and sky and ocean
by that flood from stain are freed.

4 Faithful cross, O sign of triumph,
now for us the noblest tree,
none in foliage, none in blossom,
none in fruit can equal be;
sweetest wood and sweetest iron,
sweetest weight is hung on thee.

5 Thus the plan of our salvation
was of old in order laid
that the manifold deceiver’s
art by art might be outweighed,
and the lure the foe put forward
into means of healing made.

6 Let our songs of strength and honor
now and evermore be done:
to the God who spoke creation,
God the true begotten Son,
God the Spirit, ever moving,
One in Three and Three in One. Amen.