O sacred Head, now
wounded, with grief and
shame weighed down,
Now scornfully
surrounded with thorns,
Thine only crown;
How pale Thou art with
anguish, with sore
abuse and scorn!
How does that visage
languish, which once
was bright as morn!
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.
Men mock and taunt
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 that once was
bright as morn!
Now from Thy cheeks
has vanished their
color once so fair;
From Thy red lips is
banished the splendor
that was there.
Grim death, with cruel
rigor, hath robbed Thee
of Thy life;
Thus Thou hast lost Thy
vigor, Thy strength in
this sad strife.
My burden in Thy
Passion, Lord, Thou
hast borne for me,
For it was my
transgression which
brought this woe on
Thee.
I cast me down before
Thee, wrath were my
rightful lot;
Have mercy, I implore
Thee; Redeemer, spurn
me not!
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.
My Shepherd, now
receive me; my
Guardian, own me Thine.
Great blessings Thou
didst give me, O source
of gifts divine.
Thy lips have often fed
me with words of truth
and love;
Thy Spirit oft hath led
me to heavenly joys
above.
Here I will stand
beside Thee, from Thee
I will not part;
O Savior, do not chide
me! When breaks Thy
loving heart,
When soul and body
languish in death’s
cold, cruel grasp,
Then, in Thy deepest
anguish, Thee in mine
arms I’ll clasp.
The joy can never be
spoken, above all joys
beside,
When in Thy body broken
I thus with safety
hide.
O Lord of Life,
desiring Thy glory now
to see,
Beside Thy cross
expiring, I’d breathe
my soul to Thee.
My Savior, be Thou
near me when death is
at my door;
Then let Thy presence
cheer me, forsake me
nevermore!
When soul and body
languish, oh, leave me
not alone,
But take away mine
anguish by virtue of
Thine own!
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
enfolds Thee. Who dieth
thus dies well.
