Lyra Ecclesiastica/Second Series/Hymn to Christ


Laud we Jesus, who did ease us
From foes on the accurséd tree,
Joyous raising voice of praising,
Exult the Heavens with praises free.

May Thy dying sorrows trying,
And spilling of Thy pretious blood,
Our desiring to inquiring
For Thee our sole Redemption goad.

By His blesséd wounds impresséd,
The spittle, scourges, agony,
Be conceded, e'en as needed,
Christ's endless gifts of charity.

Swell our grieving, on perceiving
The blood that pours from out Thy scars,
Wherein mergéd, be we purgéd,
O! mild Creatour of the stars.

Saviour pretious, O! refresh us
With those good gifts Thy passion bought,
In whose power Thou wouldst shower
Blessed joys with heavenly glories fraught.


Who untyedst, when Thou dyedst,
The hands of sin and Satan's thrall,
Gently tend us, quiet send us,
O! Jesus virgins' coronal.

Scourges tearing cruel bearing,
Thou drank'st Thy bitter cup of gall,
For transgression our commission,
Thou everlasting king of all.

While we ponder, full of wonder.
The torments of Thy death our theme,
Virtue send us, safety lend us,
O! Christ, who all men didst redeem.

Down the Cross's altar courses
Thy blood in agonizing streams,
Christ divinest, king benignest,
Bright partner of Thy Father's beams.

Christ's blood purest, that procurest
Our fiendish persecutor's fall,
O! concede us thirst, and lead us
Unto the Lamb's high festival.