Thy wounds, as Thomas saw, I do not see;
Yet thee confess my Lord and God to be;
Make me believe thee ever more and more;
In thee my hope, in thee my love to store.
O thou memorial of our Lord's own dying!
O Bread that living art and vivifying!
Make ever thou my soul on thee to live;
Ever a taste of heavenly sweetness give.
O loving Pelican! O Jesus, Lord!
Unclean I am, but cleanse me in thy Blood,
Of which a single drop for sinners spilt,
Is ransom for a world's entire guilt.
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