1 O bleeding head, and wounded,
And full of pain and scorn,
In mockery surrounded
With cruel crown of thorn!
O Head! once crowned with glory
And heavenly majesty,
But now abused and gory,
Yet here I welcome Thee!
2 O face of noble features,
Before which worlds did bow
Once dreaded by all creatures,
Men spit upon Thee now!
Whence is this deathlike whiteness?
Whose ruthless hand has quelled
Thine eyes' celestial brightness,
Which earthly lights excelled?
3 Thy cheeks' bright hue is vanished,
Thy rosy lips' sweet breath
Has fled now; all has banished
the strong hand of pale Death,
Who has with cruel rigor
Bereft Thee of Thy life;
Thus Thou hast lost Thy vigor
And strength in this sad strife.
4 My burden, dearest Saviour,
Hast thus Thou borne for me,
My sinful misbehaviour
Has caused Thine agony.
Lo! I am the transgressor
Whom curse and wrath behoove:
Grant me, my intercessor,
A single glance of love!
5 My Guardian, do receive me?
My Shepherd, own me Thine!
What blessings didst Thou give me,
O Source of gifts divine!
How oft Thy mouth has fed me
With milk and sweetest food!
How oft Thy Spirit led me
To stores of heavenly good!
6 Near Thee I'll stand forever,
Oh, do not drive me back!
Lord, I will leave Thee never;
Yea, when Thy heart doth break
And when Thy head doth languish
In death’s last fatal grasp,
Then in Thy deepest anguish,
Thee in mine arms I’ll clasp.
7 It fills my heart with gladness.
Gives joy unto my mind,
When in Thy pain and sadness,
My Saviour, me I find.
Ah well for me, if lying
Here at Thy feet, my Life,
I too with Thee were dying,
And thus might end my strife!
8 My heart its thanks if off'ring
To Thee, O dearest friend,
For by Thy death and suff'ring
My good Thou didst intend.
Ah! grant that I may ever
Be true to Thee in faith;
When soul and body sever,
In Thee may be my death.
9 O Lord, do Thou not leave me,
When I this world must leave,
But Thy support do give me,
When my last sigh I heave;
When soul and body languish
In death's last agony,
Then take away mine anguish
By Thine on Calvary.
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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