Hast deigned a mortal form to wear,
A mortal’s painful lot to bear.
4 When thou didst hang upon the tree,
The quaking earth acknowledged thee;
When thou didst there yield up thy breath,
The world grew dark as shades of death.
5 Now in the Father’s glory high,
Great Conqueror, never more to die,
Us by thy mighty power defend,
And reign through ages without end!