136. O Sacred Head, Now Wounded

1 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 till now was Thine!
Yet, though despised and gory,
I joy to call Thee mine.

2 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.

3 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.


Text Information
First Line: O sacred Head, now wounded
Title: O Sacred Head, Now Wounded
Translator (into English): James W. Alexander (1830)
Author (attributed to): Bernard of Clairvaux, 12th century
Translator (into German): Paul Gerhardt (1656)
Publication Date: 1974
Meter: 7 6 7 6 D.
Scripture: ;
Topic: Adoration; Christ: Death
Tune Information
Arranger: J. S. Bach (1729)
Composer: Hans Leo Hassler (1601)
Meter: 7 6 7 6 D.
Key: C Major

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