Jesu kneels here – solemn, silent, distressed
And to the very ground His Face He pressed
To the earth He once formed in His Image
Now, rising, He is drenched in the perpetual vintage
Poured forth for all and for our own sake
Whilst Jesu a great battle wast to undertake
A tremendous pain long foreknown
Yet, God's glory must still be shown
“What is He thinking?” you say...?
How doth the Son to the Father pray?
It is of us and our wrongs Jesu contemplates
It is our restlessness, our love-longing, which He satiates
Here the Fruit of Mary's womb pleaded
But consented to approach the Tree the world needed
He would lift all of vice's tribulation,
And bring life to us through His Crucifixion