Behold, it was the cruel horde
Of our proud sins that smote the Lord,
And drove the undeserved dart
To wound God’s innocent, pure heart.
They guided the uncertain spear
The Roman soldier wielded, near;
The direful iron he thrust within
Was pointed by our mortal sin.
But from thy pierced side, O Christ,
Is born the Church, thy bride unpierced;
Salvation’s Ark receives a door
For all mankind, forevermore.
Unending grace, a sevenfold flood,
Flows forth from thence; wherein thy Blood.
O Lamb of God, can cleanse our stain
And wash our garments white again.
O may we not return to shame
And sin, that blessed Heart to maim;
But rather light the flame of love
Within us, like to that above.
Jesus, to thee be glory given,
Who from thy Heart dost grace outpour,
With Father and with Holy Spirit,
Through endless ages evermore. Amen.