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.