9. And when my spirit flies away, Thy dying words shall be my stay. Let me depart with peaceful brow When I in death my head shall bow. 10. Thy cross shall be my staff in life, Thy holy grave my rest from strife; The winding-sheet that covered Thee, Oh, let it be a shroud for me! 11. Lord, in Thy nail-prints let me read That Thou to save me hast decreed, And grant that in Thy opened side My troubled soul may ever hide. 12. Since Thou hast died, the Pure, the Just, I take my homeward way in trust. The gates of heaven, Lord, open wide When here I may no more abide. 13. And when the last Great Day shall come And Thou, our Judge, shalt speak the doom, Let me with joy behold the light And set me then upon Thy right. 14. Renew this wasted flesh of mine That like the sun it there may shine Among the angels pure and bright, Yea, like Thyself in glorious light. 15. Ah, then I’ll have my heart’s desire, When, singing with the angels’ choir, Among the ransomed of Thy grace, Forever I’ll behold Thy face! Martin Behm, 1603. 196 8, 7, 8, 7, 8, 8, 7, 7 Christ, the Life of all the living, Christ, the Death of death, our foe, Who, Thyself for me once giving To the darkest depths of woe, Madest reconciliation And hast saved me from damnation: Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto Thee. 2. Thou, ah! Thou, hast taken on Thee Bonds and stripes, a cruel rod; Pain and scorn were heaped upon Thee, O Thou sinless Son of God! Thus didst Thou my soul deliver From the bonds of sin forever. Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto Thee. 3. Thou hast borne the smiting only That my wounds might all be whole; Thou hast suffered, sad and lonely, Rest to give my weary soul; Yea, the curse of God enduring, Blessing unto me securing. Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto Thee. 4. Heartless scoffers did surround Thee, Treating Thee with cruel scorn, And with piercing thorns they crowned Thee; All disgrace Thou, Lord, hast borne That as Thine Thou mightest own me And with heavenly glory crown me. Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto Thee. 5. Thou hast suffered men to bruise Thee That from pain I might be free; Falsely did Thy foes accuse Thee— Thence I gain security; Comfortless once Thou didst languish Me to comfort in my anguish. Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto Thee.