1 Now, my soul, thy voice upraising,
Sing aloud in mournful strain
Of the sorrows most amazing,
And the agonizing pain,
Which our Saviour
Sinless bore, for sinners slain.

2 He the ruthless scourge enduring,
Ransom for our sins to pay,
Sinners by His own stripes curing,
Raising those who wounded lay,
Bore our sorrow,
And removed our pains away.

3 He to liberty restored us
By the very bonds He bare;
And His nail-pierced limbs afford us
Each a stream of mercy rare:
Lo! He draws us
To the Cross, and keeps us there.

4 When His painful life was ended,
Then the spear transfixed His side:
Blood and water thence descended,
Pouring forth a double tide:
This to cleanse us,
That to heal us is applied.

5 Jesus! may Thy promised blessing
Comfort to our souls afford;
May we, now Thy love possessing,
And at length our full reward,
Ever praise Thee,
As our ever-glorious Lord!

Amen.