Under an eastern sky

Under an eastern sky,
Amid a rabble’s cry,
A Man went forth to die,
  For me! for me!

Thorn-crowned His blessed head,
Blood-stained His every tread;
Cross-laden He was led,
  For me! for me!

Pierced His hands and feet,
Three hours o’er Him beat
Fierce rays of noon-tide heat,
  For me! for me!

Thus wert Thou made all mine;
Lord, make me wholly Thine;
Grant grace and strength divine
  To me! to me!

In thought and word and deed,
Thy will to do, O lead
My soul, e’en though it bleed,
  To Thee, to Thee.