Thou martyr'st Him upon the tree,
With spear and nails destroying
Thou slay'st Him, lamblike, ruthlessly,
Till heart and veins are flowing,
The heart with many a long-drawn sigh,
And till His veins are copiously
Their noble life-blood yielding.
Sweet Lamb! what shall I do for Thee
For all the good Thou doest me,
Thus saving me and shielding?