You are worthy, O Lamb, to receive praise,
For with your precious blood you clothed your Bride.
Not for mocks nor blows nor Satan’s cruel gaze,
But because on your head did Sin reside.
The sinless One, ever the Father’s delight,
Now forsaken in place of the wretched.
You died, to save the mortal and finite,
You were nailed to a tree your arms outstretched.
What love is this that the King should forgive?
And upon the guilty should grace bestow?
For death we deserve yet He bids us “Live!”
He came to wield the ax and bear its blow.
Thanks be to God our King for costly grace.
Now for endless years we behold His face.
