Overwhelmed in depths of sorrow,
On the tree of pain and scorn,
Hangeth bleeding the Redeemer
And with racking anguish torn.
Jesus, who hath caused thy Passion?
Who hath nailed thee to the Cross?
Oh, t’was l, who sinned, and grieved thee;
I who nailed thee to the Cross.

See, the nails, how cruelly piercing,
Hands and feet so tender rend;
Down his face and down his body,
See his sacred blood descend.
Jesus, who hath caused thy Passion?
Who hath nailed thee to the Cross?
Oh, t’was l, who sinned, and grieved thee;
I who nailed thee to the Cross.

Hearken! With what cry in dying
Jesus' spirit takes its flight!
How it pierced the heart of Mary,
How it whelmed her soul in night.
Jesus, who hath caused thy Passion?
Who hath nailed thee to the Cross?
Oh, t’was l, who sinned, and grieved thee;
I who nailed thee to the Cross.

See the sun its light withdrawing,
And the heavèns growing pale;
Bursting rocks the tombs that open,
All their marker's death bewail.
Jesus, who hath caused thy Passion?
Who hath nailed thee to the Cross?
Oh, t’was l, who sinned, and grieved thee;
I who nailed thee to the Cross.

Come, before his Cross assemble,
For, for us he shed his blood;
Died, of fervent love a victim,
He, the only Son of God.
Jesus, who hath caused thy Passion?
Who hath nailed thee to the Cross?
Oh, t’was l, who sinned, and grieved thee;
I who nailed thee to the Cross.