BOUND upon th' accursed tree,
Faint and bleeding, who is He?
By the eyes so pale and dim,
Streaming blood, and writhing limb,
By the flesh with scourges torn,
By the crown of twisted thorn,
By the side so deeply pierced,
By the baffled burning thirst,
By the drooping death-dewed brow,
Son of Man! 'tis Thou! 'tis Thou!
Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Dread and awful, who is He?
By the sun at noon-day pale,
Shivering rocks, and rending veil,
By earth that trembles at His doom,
By yonder saints who burst their tomb,
By Eden, promised ere He died
To the felon at His side;
Lord! our suppliant knees we bow,
Son of God! 'tis Thou! 'tis Thou!
Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Sad and dying, who is He?
By the last and bitter cry,
The ghost given up in agony;
By the lifeless body laid
In the chamber of the dead;
By the mourners come to weep
Where the bones of Jesus sleep;
Crucified! we know Thee now;
Son of Man! 'tis Thou! 'tis Thou!
Bound upon th' accursed tree,
Dread and awful, who is He?
By the prayer for them that slew,
'Lord! they know not what they do!'
By the spoiled and empty grave,
By the souls he died to save,
By the conquest he hath
By the saints before his throne,
By the rainbow round his brow,
Son of God! 'tis Thou! 'tis Thou!
FULL of trembling expectation,
Feeling much and fearing more,
Mighty God of my salvation,
I thy timely aid implore.
Suff'ring Son of Man! be near me,
All my suff'rings to sustain;
By thy sorer griefs to cheer me,
By thy more than mortal pain.
Call to mind that unknown anguish,
In thy days of flesh below;
When thy troubled soul did languish,
Under a whole world of woe;
When thou did'st our curse inherit,
Groan beneath our guilty load,
Burden'd with a wounded spirit,
Bruis'd by all the wrath of God.
By thy most severe temptation
In that dark satanic hour,
By thy last mysterious passion,
Screen me from the Tempter's power.
By thy fainting in the garden,
By thy bloody sweat I pray, Write upon my heart the pardon, Take my sins and fears away.
By the travail of thy spirit,
By thine outcry on the tree,
By thine agonizing merit,
In my griefs, remember me!
By thy death I thee conjuring,
Now my sinking soul befriend,
Make me patient and enduring,
Make me faithful to the end.
SAVIOUR! when in dust to thee
Low we bow th' adoring knee,
When, repentant, to the skies
Scarce we lift our streaming eyes,-
Oh! by all the pains and woe,
Suffered once for man below,
Bending from thy throne on high,
Hear our solemn litany!
By thy helpless infant years,
By thy life of wants and tears,
By thy days of sore distress
In the savage wilderness,-
By the dread, permitted hour
Of th' insulting Tempter's power,—
Turn, O turn a pitying eye,
Hear our solemn litany!
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