To the Countenance of the Lord Jesus

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 despised and gory;
Yet here I welcome Thee!

2 Men spit upon and jeer Thee,
Thou noble countenance,
Though mighty worlds shall fear Thee,
And flee before Thy glance!
How art Thou pale with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How does Thy visage languish
Which once was bright as morn!

3 Now from Thy cheeks has vanished
Their color once so fair;
From Thy red lips is banished
The splendor that was there.
Pale Death with cruel rigor
Bereaveth Thee of life;
Thus losest Thou Thy vigor
And strength in this sad strife.

4 My burden, in Thy passion,
Lord, Thou hast borne for me,
For it was my transgression
Which brought this woe on Thee.
I cast me down before Thee,
Wrath were my rightful lot,
Have mercy, I implore Thee,
Redeemer, spurn me not!

5 My Shepherd, now receive me!
My Guardian, own me Thine!
Great blessings Thou didst give me,
O Source of gifts divine!
Thy lips have often fed me
With milk and sweetest food;
Thy Spirit oft has led me
To stores of heavenly good.

6 Here I will stand beside Thee,
From Thee I will not part;
O Savior, do not chide me!
When breaks Thy loving heart,
When soul and body languish
In death's last fatal grasp,
Then, in Thy deepest anguish,
Thee in mine arms I’ll clasp.

7 Naught ever so much blesses,
So much rejoices me,
As when in Thy distresses
I take a part with Thee.
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 Thanks from my heart I offer
Thee, Jesus, dearest Friend,
For all that Thou didst suffer;
My good didst Thou intend.
Ah! grant that I may ever
To Thy truth faithful be;
When soul and body sever,
May I be found in Thee!

9 When hence I must betake me,
Lord, do not Thou depart!
O nevermore forsake me,
When death is at my heart!
When soul and body languish,
O leave me not alone,
But take away mine anguish,
By virtue of Thine own!

10 Be Thou my Consolation
And Shield when I must die;
Remind me of Thy passion,
When my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee,
Upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfold Thee.
Who dieth thus, dies well!

Source: Evangelical Lutheran Hymn-book #201