O Jesus, Thou Fountain of solace and gladness
Of Heaven’s high Three second person divine;
Forgive, O forgive me my blindness and madness,
And guide to Thy kingdom this spirit of mine.

Dearly, O Jesus,
Thou boughtest me,
Yon Friday dark
Upon the tree.

Thy foes were numerous,
Fierce and fell;
Few and weak those
Who wished Thee well.

Nigh stood Thy mother,
Full of fears,
Wringing her hands
And bathed in tears.

Often, O Jesus,
Wilfully
With my great sins
I’ve tortured Thee.

Causing Thy wounds
To open again,
Waking anew
The ancient pain.

All the kindness
Thou hast display’d,
With black ingratitude
I’ve repaid.

But Jesus, Creator of earth and of ocean,
Who me, a vile sinner, so dearly didst buy;
My damnable ignorance turn to devotion,
And guide my poor soul to Thy courts in the sky.