Lutheran Hymnal: 052 - O Sacred Head, Now Wounded

1 O sacred head, now wounded, With pain and scorn weighed down, In mockery 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 Men spit upon and jeer Thee, Thou noble countenance, Though mighty worlds shall fear Thee And flee before Thy glance. How art Thou pale with anguish, With sore abuse and scorn; How doth Thy visage languish Which once was bright as morn. 3 Now from Thy cheeks hath vanished Their colour once so fair, From Thy red lips is banished The splendour that was there. Pale death with cruel rigour Bereaveth Thee of life; Thus losest Thou Thy vigour And strength in this sad strife. 4 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 Saviour, ’Tis I deserve Thy place; Look on me with Thy favour, Vouchsafe to me Thy grace. 5 In this Thy bitter passion, Good shepherd, think of me. With Thy most sweet compassion, Unworthy though I be; Beneath Thy cross abiding, For ever would I rest, In Thy dear love confiding And with Thy presence blest. 6 Thanks from my heart I offer, O Jesus, dearest friend, For all that Thou didst suffer, Thy pity without end. O grant that I may ever To Thy truth faithful be; When soul and body sever May I be found in Thee. 7 Lord, when I am departing, O part not Thou from me; When pangs of death are darting, Come, Lord, and set me free; And when my heart must languish Amidst the final throe, Release me from mine anguish By Thine own pain and woe. 8 Be Thou my consolation, My shield, when I must die; Remind me of Thy passion When my last hour draws nigh. Mine eyes shall then behold Thee, Upon Thy cross shall dwell, My heart by faith enfold Thee; Who dieth thus, dies well.