Dear Lord, Thou art the Tree of Life,
The very life supply;
Thy fruits, replete with life divine,
Our hunger satisfy.

Thou art the true and heav'nly Vine,
Our very source of life;
By Thee we live, in Thee abide,
And rest from all our strife.

Dear Lord, Thou art the Apple Tree,
Thyself we all enjoy;
Thy fruits are sweet to all our taste,
Thy shadow brings us joy.

Thou art to us the healing Tree;
Our death Thou didst endure;
Thou on a tree for us wast slain,
That we may have Thy cure.

Thou art the very Branch of God,
His fulness dwells in Thee;
In Thee we take of Him as grace
And the reality.

Lord, Thou art also David's Branch
Incarnate here to be;
In Thee we see and comprehend
The true humanity.

Thou art the sprouting Rod with God,
In Thee is endless life;
Before Thy resurrection pow'r
Death never can be rife.

Thou also art the swimming Stick,
The fallen "ax" are we;
By Thine uplifting pow'r of life,
From death we're lifted free.

Lord, Thou art such a "Plant of Fame,"
Of Thee we richly share;
As we are here remembering Thee,
Thyself we thus declare!