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Translated by J. W. Alexander
O SACRED Head! now wounded, | |
| With grief and shame weighed down, | |
| Now scornfully surrounded | |
| With thorns, thy only crown; | |
| O sacred Head! what glory, | 5 |
| What bliss, till now was thine! | |
| Yet, though despised and gory, | |
| I joy to call thee mine. | |
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| O noblest brow, and dearest! | |
| In other days the world | 10 |
| All feared when thou appearedst: | |
| What shame on thee is hurled! | |
| How art thou pale with anguish, | |
| With sore abuse and scorn; | |
| How does that visage languish, | 15 |
| Which once was bright as morn! | |
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| The blushes late residing | |
| Upon that holy cheek, | |
| The roses once abiding | |
| Upon those lips so meek, | 20 |
| Alas! they have departed; | |
| Wan Death has rifled all! | |
| For, weak and broken-hearted, | |
| I see thy body fall. | |
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| What thou, my Lord, hast suffered, | 25 |
| Was all for sinners’ gain: | |
| Mine, mine, was the transgression, | |
| But thine the deadly pain. | |
| Lo! here I fall, my Saviour: | |
| ’T is I deserve thy place; | 30 |
| Look on me with thy favor, | |
| Vouchsafe to me thy grace. | |
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| Receive me, my Redeemer: | |
| My Shepherd, make me thine; | |
| Of every good the fountain, | 35 |
| Thou art the spring of mine. | |
| Thy lips with love distilling, | |
| And milk of truth sincere, | |
| With heaven’s bliss are filling | |
| The soul that trembles here. | 40 |
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| Beside thee, Lord, I ’ve taken | |
| My place,—forbid me not! | |
| Hence will I ne’er be shaken, | |
| Though thou to death be brought. | |
| If pain’s last paleness hold thee, | 45 |
| In agony opprest, | |
| Then, then, will I enfold thee | |
| Within this arm and breast! | |
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| The joy can ne’er be spoken, | |
| Above all joys beside, | 50 |
| When in thy body broken | |
| I thus with safety hide. | |
| My Lord of life, desiring | |
| Thy glory now to see, | |
| Beside the cross expiring, | 55 |
| I ’d breathe my soul to thee. | |
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| What language shall I borrow | |
| To thank thee, dearest Friend, | |
| For this, thy dying sorrow, | |
| Thy pity without end! | 60 |
| O, make me thine forever; | |
| And should I fainting be, | |
| Lord, let me never, never | |
| Outlive my love to thee. | |
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| And when I am departing, | 65 |
| O, part not thou from me! | |
| When mortal pangs are darting, | |
| Come, Lord, and set me free! | |
| And when my heart must languish | |
| Amidst the final throe, | 70 |
| Release me from mine anguish | |
| By thine own pain and woe! | |
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| Be near me when I ’m dying, | |
| O, show thy cross to me; | |
| And for my succor flying, | 75 |
| Come, Lord, and set me free! | |
| These eyes new faith receiving | |
| From Jesus shall not move; | |
| For he, who dies believing, | |
| Dies safely through thy love. | 80 |
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