O dearest Jesus, what law have you broken that such sharp sentence should on you be spoken? Of what great crime have you to make confession, what dark transgression? They crown your head with thorns, they smite, they scourge you; with cruel mockings to the cross they urge you; they give you gall to drink, they still decry you; they crucify you. Whence come these sorrows, whence this mortal anguish? It is my sins for which you, Lord, must languish; yes, all the wrath, the woe that you inherit, this I do merit. The sinless Son of God must die in sadness, the sinful child of man may live in gladness; we forfeited our lives, yet are acquitted; God is committed. And when, dear Lord, before your throne in heaven to me the crown of joy at last is given, where sweetest hymns your saints forever raise you, I too shall praise you.
