Now, my tongue, the mystery telling
of the glorious Body sing,
and the
Blood, all price excelling,
which the gentiles' Lord and King,
in a
Virgin's womb once dwelling,
shed for this world's ransoming.
Given
for us, and condescending,
to be born for us below,
he, with men in
converse blending,
dwelt the seed of truth to sow,
till he closed with
wondrous ending
his most patient life of woe.