In every pang that rends the heart
The Man of Sorrows had a part.

In every pang that rends the heart
The Man of Sorrows had a part.

Thou hast conquered, O Galilaean.
[Lat., Vicisti, Galloloae.]

Thou hast conquered, O Galilaean.
[Lat., Vicisti, Galloloae.]

Christ beside me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ
within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.

Christ beside me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ
within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.

Near, so very near to God,
Nearer I cannot be;
For in the person of his Son
read more

Near, so very near to God,
Nearer I cannot be;
For in the person of his Son
I am as near as he.
So dear, so very dear to God,
More dear I cannot be;
The love wherewith he loves the Son -
Such is his love to me.

In darkness there is no choice. It is light that enables us to
see the difference between things; and read more

In darkness there is no choice. It is light that enables us to
see the difference between things; and it is Christ that gives us
light.

Lovely was the death
Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power,
He on the thought-benighted read more

Lovely was the death
Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power,
He on the thought-benighted Skeptic beamed
Manifest Godhead.

Every pang that rends the heart.

Every pang that rends the heart.

Therefore, friends,
As far as to the sepulchre of Christ--
Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
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Therefore, friends,
As far as to the sepulchre of Christ--
Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
We are impressed and engaged to fight--
Fourthwith a power of English shall we levy,
Whose arms were moulded in their mother's womb
To chase these pagans in those holy fields
Over whose acres walked those blessed feet
Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed
For our advantage on the bitter cross.

Hail, O bleeding Head and wounded,
With a crown of thorns surrounded,
Buffeted, and bruised and battered,
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Hail, O bleeding Head and wounded,
With a crown of thorns surrounded,
Buffeted, and bruised and battered,
Smote with reed by striking shattered,
Face with spittle vilely smeared!
Hail, whose visage sweet and comely,
Marred by fouling stains and homely,
Changed as to its blooming color,
All now turned to deathly pallor,
Making heavenly hosts affeared!