1 O bleeding Head, and wounded,
And full of pain and scorn,
In mockery surrounded
With cruel crown of thorn;
O Head! before adorned
With grace and majesty,
Insulted now and scorned,
All hail I bid to Thee!
2 They spit upon and jeer Thee,
Thou noble countenance!
Though mighty worlds shall fear Thee,
And flee before Thy glance.
How hath Thy color faded,
The light too of Thine eye!
Say who to pale hath made it?
None shone so brilliantly!
3 Now from Thy cheeks has vanished
Their color once so fair;
From Thy red lips is banished
The splendor that was there.
Death’s might hath all things taken,
Hath robbed Thee ruthlessly;
Thy frame, of strength forsaken,
Doth hence in weakness lie.
4 O Lord! it was my burden
That brought this woe on Thee,
I earned it--for my pardon
It has been borne by Thee.
A child of wrath, look on me,
Turn not away Thy face;
O Savior! deign to own me,
And smile on me in grace.
5 My Guardian, now confess me,
My Shepherd, me receive!
Thou evermore dost bless me,
All good things dost Thou give,
Thy lips have often given
Me milk and sweetest food,
And many a taste of heaven
Thy Spirit hath bestow’d.
6 O do not, Lord, deride me,
I will not hence depart,
Here will I stand beside Thee,
When breaks Thine anguished heart;
When on Thy breast is sinking
In death’s last fatal grasp
Thy head, e’en then unshrinking
Thee in mine arms I’ll clasp.
7 Naught ever so much blesses,
So much rejoices me,
As when in Thy distresses
I share a part with Thee.
My Life, ah! were it ever
Vouchsafed me at Thy cross
My spirit to deliver,
How blessed were my loss!
8 Thanks from my heart I offer
Thee, Jesus, dearest Friend,
For all that Thou didst suffer;
My good didst Thou intend.
Ah! grant that I may ever
To Thy truth faithful be,
And in the last death-shiver
May I be found in Thee.
9 When hence I must betake me
And death at last must meet,
Lord, do not then forsake me,
Thy child with welcome greet;
When terror has bereft me,
Of heart and hope, again,
Lord! from my woe uplift me,
In virtue of Thy pain.
10 Be Thou my consolation
And shield, when I must die;
Let me behold Thy passion,
When my last hour draws nigh;
My dim eyes then shall see Thee,
Upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfold Thee;
Who dieth thus, dies well!
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