Again the solemn season--and again
That bleeding Brow, those wounded Hands and Feet--
Again that piercèd Side my vision meet;
Afresh that holy Form is bowed with pain.
O Thou, the all--sufficing Victim, slain
For man's transgression; by Thy mercy sweet,
From God's right hand of power, Thy glory--seat,
To look upon Thy sorrowing people deign.
Unworthy, Lord, unworthy of Thy name,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem