Love be warm, and praise be fervent,
Thou that art the Cross's servant,
And in that hast rest from strife:
Every kindred, every nation,
Hail the Tree that brings Salvation,
Tree of Beauty, Tree of Life!
O how glorious, how transcendent
Was this Altar![1] how resplendent
In the life-blood of the Lamb!
Of the Lamb Immaculate
That redeemed our ancient state
From its sin and from its shame.
Ladder this, to sinners given,
Whereby Christ, the King of Heaven,
Drew to Him both friends and foes:
Who its nature hath expended
In its limits comprehended[2]
All the world's four quarters knows.
No new Sacraments we mention;
We devise no fresh invention:
This religion was of old;
Wood made sweet the bitter current:[3]
Wood called forth the rushing torrent
From the smitten rock that rolled.
