Ah, did not He the heavenly throne
A little thing esteem,
And not unworthy for my sake
A mortal body deem?
When In His flesh they drove the nails,
Did He not all endure?
What name is there to fit a life
So patient and so pure?
So, Love itself in human form,
For love of me He came;
I cannot look upon His face
For shame, for bitter shame.
