Yet man's nature art Thou wearing,
But no sin its beauty marring.
For Thyself Thou dost not bear it,
Of the Cov'nant Thou art Head;
'Tis our debts that make Thee share it,
That like grievous load of lead
Lie upon us, and Thy heart
Pierce e'en to the inmost part;
These Thou bearest to deliver
Us, who could have paid them never.