Jesu, Lord Jesu, bowed in bitter anguish, and
bearing all the evil we have done,
Oh, teach us, teach us how to love Thee for Thy love;
Help us to pray, and watch, and mourn with Thee.

Could ye not watch with Me one brief hour?
Did ye not say upon Kedron’s slope,
Ye would not fall into the Tempter’s power?
Did ye not murmur great words of hope?
Jesu, Lord Jesu, bowed in bitter anguish, and
bearing all the evil we have done,
Oh, teach us, teach us how to love Thee for Thy love,
Help us to pray, and watch, and mourn with Thee.

Could ye not watch with Me? even so:
Willing in heart, but the flesh is vain.
Back to Mine agony I must go,
Lonely to pray in bitterest pain.

And they laid their hands on Him, and took
Him, and led Him away to the high priest.
And the high priest asked Him and said unto
Him, Art Thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?
Jesus said, I am: and ye shall see the Son of
man sitting on the right hand of power, and
coming in the clouds of heaven.
Then the high priest rent his clothes, and saith:
What need we any further witnesses? Ye have
heard the blasphemy.
And they all condemned Him to be guilty of
death. And they bound Jesus and carried
Him away, and delivered Him to Pilate.
And Pilate, willing to content the people,
released Barabbas unto them, and delivered
Jesus, when he had scourged Him, to be crucified.
And the soldiers led Him away.

His Cross is the sign of a love divine,
His crown is the thorn-wreath of woe,
He bears His load on the sorrowful road,
And bends ‘neath the burden low.

How sweet is the grace of His sacred Face
And lovely beyond compare;
Though weary and worn, with the merciless scorn
Of a world He has come to spare.

The burden of wrong, that earth bears along,
Past evil, and evil to be,
All sins of man since the world began,
They are laid, dear Lord, on Thee.

Then on to the end, my God and my Friend,
With Thy banner lifted high!
Then on to the end, my God and my Friend,
With Thy banner lifted high,

Thou art come from above, in Thy power and love,
To endure and suffer and die.
Then on to the end, my God and my Friend,
To suffer, endure, and die.

Here the King of all the ages,
Throned in light ere worlds could be,
Robed in mortal flesh is dying,
Crucified by sin for me.

O mysterious condescending!
O abandonment sublime!
Very God Himself is bearing
All the sufferings of time!

Evermore for human failure
By His Passion we can plead;
God has borne all mortal anguish,
Surely He will know our need.

From the ‘Holy, Holy, Holy,
We adore Thee, O most High’,
Down to earth’s blaspheming voices
And the shout of ‘Crucify’.

Cross of Jesus, Cross of Sorrow,
Where the Blood of Christ was shed
Perfect man on thee was tortured,
Perfect God on thee has bled.

William John Sparrow Simpson (1860-1952)

By the treachery and trial,
By the blows and sore distress,
By desertion and denial,
By Thine awful loneliness:
Crucified, I turn to Thee,
Son of Mary, plead for me.

By Thy look so sweet and lowly,
While they smote Thee on the Face,
By Thy patience, calm and holy,
In the midst of keen disgrace:
Crucified, I turn to Thee,
Son of Mary, plead for me.

By the hour of condemnation,
By the blood which trickled down,
When, for us and our salvation,
Thou didst wear the robe and crown:
Crucified, I turn to Thee,
Son of Mary, plead for me.

By the path of sorrows dreary,
By the Cross, Thy dreadful load,
By the pain, when, faint and weary,
Thou didst sink upon the road:
Crucified, I turn to Thee,
Son of Mary, plead for me.

By the Spirit which could render
Love for hate and good for ill,
By the mercy, sweet and tender,
Poured upon Thy murderers still:
Crucified, I turn to Thee,
Son of Mary, plead for me.

Lord, I have left Thee, I have denied,
Followed the world in my selfish pride;
Lord, I have joined in the hateful cry,
Slay Him, away with Him, crucify!
Lord, I have done it, oh! ask me not how;
Woven the thorns for Thy tortured Brow:
Yet in His pity so boundless and free,
Jesus, the Crucified, pleads for me!

Though thou hast left Me and wandered away,
Chosen the darkness instead of the day;
Though thou art covered with many a stain
Though thou hast wounded Me oft and again,
Though thou hast followed thy wayward will;
Yet, in My pity, I love thee still.
Wonder of wonders it ever must be!
Jesus, the Crucified, pleads for me!

Jesus is dying, in agony sore,
Jesus is suffering more and more,
Jesus is bowed with the weight of His woe,
Jesus is faint with each bitter throe.
Jesus is bearing it all in my stead,
Pity Incarnate for me has bled;
Wonder of wonders it ever must be
Jesus, the Crucified, pleads for me!

I adore Thee, I adore Thee!
Thankful at Thy feet to be;
I have heard Thy accent thrilling,
Lo! I come, for Thou art willing
Me to pardon, even me.

I adore Thee, I adore Thee!
Born of woman, yet Divine:
Stained with sins I kneel before Thee,
Sweetest Jesu, I implore Thee
Make me ever only Thine.

All for Jesus—Thou wilt give us
Strength to serve Thee, hour by hour;
None can move us from Thy presence,
While we trust Thy love and power.

All for Jesus—at Thine altar
Thou wilt give us sweet content;
There, dear Lord, we shall receive Thee
In the solemn Sacrament.

All for Jesus—Thou hast loved us;
All for Jesus—Thou hast died;
All for Jesus—Thou art with us;
All for Jesus Crucified.

All for Jesus—all for Jesus—
This the Church’s song must be;
Till, at last, her sons are gathered
One in love and one in Thee.