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!