Salvete Clavi et Lancea (Part II)

Oh, turn those blessed points, all bath’d
In Jesu’s blood, on me;
Mine were the sins that wrought his death,
Mine be the penalty.

Pierce through my feet, my hands, my heart;
So may some drop distil
Of Blood divine, into my soul,
And all its evils heal.

So shall my feet be slow to sin,
Harmless my hands shall be;
So from my wounded heart shall each
Forbidden passion flee.

Thee, Jesu, pierc’d with Nails and Spear,
Let every knee adore;
With Thee, O Father, and with Thee,
O Spirit, evermore.