O Perfect God, Thy Love

O per­fect God

Thy love

As per­fect Man did share

Here up­on earth each form of ill

Thy fel­low men must bear.

Now from the tree of scorn

We hear Thy voice again;

Thou who didst take our mor­tal flesh

Hast felt our mor­tal pain.

Thy bo­dy suf­fers thirst

Parched are Thy lips and dry:

How poor the of­fer­ing man can bring

Thy thirst to sa­tis­fy!

O Sav­ior

by Thy thirst

Borne on the cross of shame

Grant us in all our suf­fer­ings leave

To glo­ri­fy Thy name.

That through each pain and grief

Our souls may on­ward move

To gain more like­ness to Thy life

More know­ledge of Thy love.