With what heart and soul contrite
May I praise Thee sadly now,
Who am nought,
Seeing Thee, God infinite,
To such plight
Of suffering and sorrow bow,
By my sin brought!

Lord, how art Thou crushed and broken,
Thou, the Son of God, to die!
And Thy death
By whom ordered, by what token
The word spoken
Thee to judge and crucify,
Who gav'st us breath?