O SACRED HEAD SORE WOUNDED – HYMN

O SACRED HEAD SORE WOUNDED 

HYMN 

I

O sacred head sore wounded,

defiled and put to scorn;

O kingly head surrounded

with mocking crown of thorn:

what sorrow mars thy grandeur?

Can death thy bloom deflower?
O countenance whose splendour

the hosts of heaven adore.

II

Thy beauty, long-desired,

hath vanished from our sight;

thy power is all expired,

and quenched the light of light.

Ah me! For whom thou diest,

hide not so far thy grace:

show me, O love most highest,

the brightness of thy face.

III

I pray thee, Jesu, own me,

me, shepherd good, for thine;

who to thy fold hast won me,

and fed with truth divine.

Me guilty, me refuse not;

incline thy face to me,

this comfort that I lose not

on earth to comfort thee.

IV

In thy most bitter passion

my heart to share doth cry,

with thee for my salvation

upon the cross to die.

Ah, keep my heart thus moved

to stand thy cross beneath,

to mourn thee, well-beloved,

yet thank thee for thy death.

V

My days are few, O fail not,

with thine immortal power,

to hold me that I quail not

in death’s most fearful hour:

that I may fight befriended,

and see in my last strife

to me thine arms extended

upon the cross of life.

(Paulus Gerhardt 1607-1676 – Tr. Robert Bridges  1844-1930)

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