Verse 1
O Head once fill’d with bruises,
Oppress’d with pain and scorn;
O’er whelmed with sore abuses
Mock’d with a crown of thorn!
O head to death once wounded,
In shame upon the tree,
In glory now surrounded
With brightest Majesty!
Verse 2
Thou, Lord, of all transcendent;
Thou life-creating Sun
To worlds on Thee dependent-
Yet bruised and spit upon!
O Lord! what Thee tormented
Was our sin’s heavy load;
We had the debt augmented,
Which Thou didst pay in blood.
Verse 3
We give Thee thanks unfeigned,
Lord Jesus, Friend in need,
For what Thy soul sustained
When Thou for us didst bleed;
Grant us to lean unshaken
Upon Thy faithfulness,
Until to glory taken,
We see Thee face to face.
Gerhardt.