O day of pain, the saddest
Yet best of all the year;
O day that never haddest,
Before or since, thy peer;
Thy noontide sun in wonder
His countenance doth shroud,
While earth is rent asunder
With quake of thunder loud.

Lo! Shameless hands, and gory,
Have nailed upon the Tree
The Lord, the King of glory,
In nameless agony.
Go, Christen, kneel before him -
His side, his hands, his feet -
In penitence adore him;
Thy wounded Saviour greet.

Christ, who the Cross hast mounted,
Acquaint with reed and rod,
Among transgressors counted,
Though ever Son of God;
Thou diest for the sinner
In pity of his case;
That man may be the winner
Of God the Father's grace.

Then, like thy subject loyal,
While as I draw my breath,
I swear to thee, King royal,
Allegiance until death;
When thou shalt come all glorious,
To hold thy dread assize,
Mid all thy saints victorious
Exalt me to thy skies.