Jesus, true love l owe to Thee,
who on the cross didst show that tide,
the crown of thorns, the sharp nails three,
the cruel spear that pierc'd thy side.

Lord Jesus, when I think of Thee,
And look upon thy cross aright,
thy body stained with blood I see
Lord, pierce my heart with that sad sight!

Jesus, love made Thy tears to fall,
T’was love that made thy blood to flow,
For love wast scourged and smitten all,
For love Thy life Thou didst forego.

Mary, i pray, as thou art free,
A part of this thy grief I’ll bear
That I may sorrow here with thee
And bliss with thee hereafter share.