6 p.m.
WILT Thou be the sinner's servant,
Humble, loving Lord,
Wash my ways, and all my converse,
Thought, and deed, and word?
Make me bend, the least and lowest,
At my brethren's feet;
Love saith, "As the task is meanest,
Is the service sweet.”
7 p.m.
Givest thou Thyself, Lord Jesus,
Thus my life to be?
Thy most precious Blood and Body
Offered up for me?
Thou, O Lord, my food eternal
My eternal feast—
All my hunger stilled forever,
All my thirst appeased.
8 p.m.
Great High Priest whose prayers are music
In the Father's ears,
I shall know their glorious answer
Through eternal years.
Even now, O Lord, I know it,
Made by love Divine,
One with Thee, henceforth, forever,
Therefore one with Thine.
9 p.m.
Lo! I see the shadow falling
Awful in its gloom—
See Thee passing, O Beloved,
To Thy place of doom—
Mine the sin that veiled the glory,
Thine the burden sore—
Yet, O world, so sweet that sorrow,
Thou art sweet no more.
10 p.m.
Sorrowful, I see Thee kneeling
That dread cup to take;
Filled with wrath of my deserving
Given Thee for my sake.
Yet to Thee how sweet the bitter,
Sweet the Father's will!
Lord, may I, Thy love recalling,
Suffer, and be still.
11 p.m.
For Thine agony of weeping,
For Thy sweat of Blood,
For Thy prayer that told the marvel
Of the love of God;
Lord, I thank Thee—still ascendeth
That unceasing prayer,
Incense from my heart's still temple;
God's High Priest is there.
Midnight.
On! the traitor's kiss to suffer
On Thy lips Divine—
Yield Thyself to foemen, stricken
By one word of Thine—
Give me, Lord, to bear rejoicing
Cross and shame for Thee
Meet with loving lips and gentle
Him who hateth me.
1 a.m.
Unresisting, uncomplaining,
Holy, harmless, calm;
Driven, beaten, led to slaughter,
God's unblemished Lamb—
Bind me in eternal fetters,
Lead me, Thine alone;
Silent when contempt and hatred
Mark me for Thine own.
2 a.m.
Lo! they judge Thee as a traitor,
All the treachery mine—
Scourge Thee as a malefactor,
Savior Divine.
Search me, O my God, and try me,
Cleanse my inmost will;
Give to me, if men misjudge me,
Patience sweet and still.
3 a.m.
Peter hath denied Thee—wilder
Rise the waters deep—
Smitten by Thine eyes of pity
He hath fled to weep.
Make me strong, and true and faithful,
All my strength in Thee;
When my faithless steps would wander,
Look Thou, Lord, on me.
4 a.m.
Silent midst the false accusers,
Thou the Witness true;
Proud, false lips revile and sentence
Him they never knew.
I, the guilty one, acquitted
By Thy lips Divine;
Thine the curse and condemnation,
Life and glory mine.
5 a.m.
Lo! they mock Thee, spit upon Thee,
Smite the Face of God;
I shall stand in shining raiment,
Whitened in Thy Blood—
Stand before Thy Throne of judgment
Faultless, glad, and free;
Grant me love to men who hate me
As Thy love to me.
6 a.m.
As a sheep before her shearers
Dumb and still art Thou;
For the kingdom and the glory
Are not given Thee now.
Not for me the courts enchanted
Of the world's delight-
With Thee in Thy palace gardens
I shall walk in white.
7 a.m.
Dragged from Thy beloved city,
Zion's holy hill,
Mirth of fools and song of drunkards,
Thou art silent still.
Silently, O Lord, I follow
In that path of shame,
Thy reproach and Thy dishonor
Glory of my name.
8 a.m.
Thou, the Prince of Life, rejected,
And the murderer claimed;
Stripped and scourged by hands ungentle,
Mocked by tongues untamed—
Strip from me, Lord, self's foul raiment,
Clothe me with Thine own;
I am fit for courts of Heaven,
Clad in Christ alone.
9 a.m.
With the crown of thorns they crown Thee,
Scornfully they bow;
On the Father's throne in glory
Thou art seated now.
Mighty God, I bow before Thee,
Thee, the Savior King;
Here, my joy to love and suffer;
There, to love and sing.
10 a.m.
Mocked and spit upon, and bleeding,
Pilate leads Thee forth;
In Thy face they see no beauty,
In Thy Blood no worth.
O despised and humble Jesus,
What, compared with Thee,
Are the glory and the beauty
Of all worlds to me.
11 a.m.
Sentence passed on Thee, the guiltless
By a sinner's tongue—
I before Thy throne am speechless
I, who did the wrong.
By Thy holy lips acquitted,
Wondering, I go free—
Past for me are death and judgment,
Crucified with Thee.
Noon.
Thou must bear Thy cross, Lord Jesus,
With the robbers twain-
Wearied, bleeding and forsaken
In Thy shame and pain.
Taking up my cross I follow,
All my glory this,
With Thee here to toil and suffer,
Thy reproach my bliss.
Lo! unto the cross they nail Thee,
Bitter gall prepare,
Those all-holy lips to moisten,
Praying for them there.
When that wounded hand shall sweetly
Pass that cup to me,
May it all the world embitter,
Leave me naught but Thee.
Luke 23:4343And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise. (Luke 23:43); John 19:25-2725Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene. 26When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son! 27Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother! And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home. (John 19:25‑27).
Hanging in Thy shame and anguish,
Words of love and grace
Welcome the forgiven felon
To Thy Holiest place—
Guide Thy mother, broken-hearted,
To a home of rest—
Comfort him, who yester even
Lay upon Thy Breast.
Matt. 27:4646And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? (Matthew 27:46); John 19:3030When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he said, It is finished: and he bowed his head, and gave up the ghost. (John 19:30).
In Thy direst need forsaken,
Now the work is done—
Thou dost bow Thy Head to welcome
Me, Thy wandering one—
Bend to kiss Thine own, Thy ransomed—
In that kiss to die—
My Beloved, Thine forever,
Thine alone am I.
4 p.m.
From Thy side the blood and water
Flow to cleanse my sin—
Rent the mystic veil of Heaven;
I have entered in.
Heart of love, to sinners open,
Place where God can meet His beloved,
His priest anointed
At His mercy seat.
5 p.m.
New the grave wherein Thou liest
Wound in linen fine—
I an old cold grave have found Thee,
This poor heart of mine.
So shall that dark grave be glorious,
New, and pure, and fair;
I shall worship Thee forever
In Thy glory there.
G. Ter Steegen, † 1769.