2. Should some lust or sharp temptation Prove too strong for flesh and blood, Let me think upon Thy Passion, And the breach is soon made good. Or should Satan make his way To my heart, O let me say: “Jesus Christ for me was wounded,” And the Tempter flees confounded. 3. If the world my heart entices On the broad and easy road, Filled with mirth and pleasant vices, Let me think upon the load Thou didst once for me endure, That I flee all thoughts impure, Banishing each wild emotion, Calm and blest in my devotion. 4. Yes, whate’er may pain or grieve me, Let Thy wounds, Lord, make me whole. When I’m faint, let them revive me, Granting new life to my soul. May Thy comfort render sweet Every bitter cup I meet, Thou, who by Thy death and Passion Hast procured my soul’s salvation! 5. O my God, my Rock and Tower! Grant that in Thy death I trust, Knowing Death has lost his power Since Thou trod’st him in the dust. Savior, let Thine agony Ever help and comfort me; Let Thy death be my protection, Safety, life, and resurrection. 6. Jesus, grant that balm and healing In Thy holy wounds I find, Every hour that I am feeling Pains of body and of mind; And when I this world must leave, Grant that, Lord, to Thee I cleave, In Thy wounds find consolation, And obtain my soul’s salvation. J. Heermann, 1644, a. 195 L. M. Lord Jesus Christ, my Life, my Light, My Strength by day, my Trust by night, On earth I’m but a passing guest And sorely with my sins opprest. 2. Far off I see my fatherland, Where through Thy blood I hope to stand. But ere I reach that Paradise, A weary way before me lies. 3. My heart sinks at the journey’s length, My wasted flesh has little strength, My soul alone still cries in me: “Lord, take me home, take me to Thee!” 4. O let Thy sufferings give me power To meet the last and darkest hour; Thy sweat refresh and comfort me, Thy bonds and fetters make me free! 5. The blows and stripes that fell on Thee Heal up the wounds of sin in me; Thy crown of thorns, Thy foes’ mad spite, Let be my glory and delight. 6. That thirst and bitter draught of Thine Cause me to bear with patience mine; Thy piercing cry uphold my soul When floods of anguish o’er me roll. 7. O let Thy holy wounds for me Clefts in the rock forever be Where as a dove my soul can hide And safe from Satan’s rage abide. 8. And when my lips grow white and chill, Thy Spirit cry within me still And help my soul Thy heaven to find When these poor eyes grow dark and blind.