1 O sacred head, surrounded
By crown of piercing thorn!
O bleeding head, so wounded,
Reviled and put to scorn!
The pow'r of death comes o'er you,
The glow of life decays,
Yet angel hosts adore you
And tremble as they gaze.

2 I see your strength and vigor
All fading in the strife,
And death with cruel rigor,
Bereaving you of life.
O agony and dying!
O love to sinners free!
Jesus, all grace supplying,
O turn your face on me.

3 In this, your bitter passion,
Good Shepherd, think of me
With your most sweet compassion.
Unworthy though I be:
Beneath your cross abiding
Forever would I rest,
In your dear love confiding,
And with your presence blest.