My song is love unknown,
my Saviour’s love to me;
love to the loveless shown
that they might lovely be:
O who am I, that for my sake,
my Lord should take frail flesh and die?
He came from Heaven’s throne
salvation to bestow;
but men refused, and none
the longed-for Christ would know:
But O my friend, my friend indeed,
who at my need his life did spend.
Sometimes they strew his way
and his sweet praises sing,
resounding all the day
hosannas to their King:
then: ‘Crucify!’ is all their breath,
and for his death they thirst and cry.
Here might I stay and sing
of him, my soul adores;
never was love, dear King,
never was grief like yours! –
This is my friend in whose sweet praise
I all my days could gladly spend.