|
1
|
abuses, Mocked bruises, So the brightest pain now with sore scorn, Mid Head of tree: e’en Head and a O accursed surrounded With of full crown and of wounded On majesty, In other once thorn: O death bowed once full |
|
2
|
blood. Thee bruised didst Countenance Lord, Sun! To Thou augmented Which debt heavy Thou worlds what pay upon O dependent— Yet Thee transcendent! Thou and spit the sins’ our tormented Was in load, We on had life-creating |
|
3
|
taken, We We faithfulness, Until, give to what for soul see didst lean Thy in face to Thy to Thee Friend Savior, us Thee bleed. Grant unfeigned, O need, For glory sustained When us thanks unshaken Upon face. Thou |
Delete Comment
Are you sure you want to delete this comment?