156- O Sacred Head Now Wounded
Jesus Christ: Sufferings and Death
1
- O sacred head, now wounded,
- With grief and shame weighed down,
- Now scornfully surrounded
- With thorns, Thine only crown:
- O sacred head, what glory,
- What bliss till now was Thine!
- Yet, though despised and gory,
- I joy to call Thee mine.
2
- What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered
- Was all for sinners' gain;
- Mine, mine was the transgression,
- But Thine the deadly pain.
- Lo, here I fall, my Savior!
- 'Tis I deserve Thy place;
- Look on me with Thy favor,
- Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.
3
- What language shall I borrow
- To thank Thee, dearest friend,
- For this Thy dying sorrow,
- Thy pity without end?
- O make me Thine forever;
- And should I fainting be,
- Lord, let me never, never
- Outlive my love to Thee.