' See, from his head, his hands, his feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down. Did e’er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so...

He lives – oh, the bliss of this glorious thought; My sin, not in part, but the whole, is nailed to his cross and I bear it no more....

All newborn servants of the Crucified bear on their brows the seal of him who died. Lift high the cross, the love of Christ proclaim,...