Under an east­ern sky,
Amid a rab­ble’s cry
A Man went forth to die,
For me, for me.

Thorn crowned His bless­èd head,
Blood stained His ev­ery tread;
Cross la­den, on He sped,
For me, for me.

Piercèd His hands and feet,
Three hours o’er Him beat
Fierce rays of noon­tide heat,
For me, for me.

Thus wert Thou made all mine;
Lord, make me whol­ly Thine;
Grant grace and strength di­vine,
To me, to me.

In thought and word and deed,
Thy will to do, O lead
My soul, e’en though it bleed,
To Thee, to Thee.