O sacred Head, now wounded With grief and shame weighed down Now scornfully surounded With thorns, Thine only crown How art Thou pale with anguish With sore abuse and scorn! How does that visage languish Which once was bright as morn! What Thou, my Lord, has suffered Was all for sinners' gain 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 Vouch safe to me Thy grace
Sacred Head now wounded Sacred Head with shame weighed down
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!
Sacred Head now wounded Sacred Head with shame weighed down
O sacred Head, now wounded With grief and shame weighed down Now scornfully surounded With thorns, Thine only crown How art Thou pale with anguish With sore abuse and scorn! How does that visage languish Which once was bright as morn!
How does that visage languish Which once was bright as morn!
Sacred Head now wounded Sacred Head with shame weighed down