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O Sacred Head, Now Wounded
- O sacred Head, now wounded,
with grief and shame weighed down;
now scornfully surrounded
with thorns, thine only crown;
O sacred Head, what glory,
what bliss ’til now was thine!
Yet, though despised and gory,
I joy to call thee mine. - 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. - 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.
Stanza Copyright
Play Tune
Hymn
336
Scripture Reference
Isaiah 53:3-7, Matthew 27:27-31, Mark 15:17-20, John 19:2-3
Tune
Meter
7.6.7.6.D.
Composer Information
Hassler, Hans Leo (1601)
- Author: Gerhardt, Paul (107)
- Author: Bernard of Clairvaux (24)
- Author: Alexander, James W. (4)