O Lord Most Holy!

O Lord most ho­ly! can it be

That Thou shouldst suf­fer thus for me

Bereft of con­so­la­tion?

Lord

what is man

that from ab­ove

Thou shouldst des­cend

in won­drous love

To die for our sal­va­tion?

Blessèd Je­su! I ad­ore Thee

And be­fore Thee make con­fess­ion

Thou wast slain by my trans­gress­ion.

Thee crowned with thorns my faith ad­ores:

Thee on the cross my soul im­plores—

In death Thy foes sub­du­ing!

There para­dise is still Thy own;

Thy pow­er up­on the cross is shown

There all our hope re­new­ing!

Now Thy sor­rows

Lord

shall grieve me

Yet re­lieve me

life and heal­ing

To my wound­ed spir­it seal­ing.

Ah

how shall I such love re­quite

To Thou

my Lord

my life

my light

No pains for me dis­dain­ing?

I yield my­self

my all to Thee;

Henceforth

O Je­su

dwell in me

O’er all with­in me reign­ing.

Holy Je­su! King of glo­ry!

I im­plore Thee

com­fort send me;

Jesus! un­to death at­tend me.