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O Sacred Head, now wounded With grief and shame bowed down Now scornfully surrounded With thorns Thine only crowned

O Sacred Head, now wounded With grief and shame bowed down Now scornfully surrounded With thorns Thine only crowned. O Sacred Head, What glory What bliss ‘till now was Thine! Yet, Though despised and gory I joy to call Thee mine. What thou, my Lord, has suffered Was all for sinner’s gain:

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O Sacred Head, now wounded With grief and shame bowed down Now scornfully surrounded With thorns Thine only crowned

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  1. O Sacred Head, now wounded With grief and shame bowed down Now scornfully surrounded With thorns Thine only crowned

  2. O Sacred Head, What glory What bliss ‘till now was Thine! Yet, Though despised and gory I joy to call Thee mine.

  3. What thou, my Lord, has suffered Was all for sinner’s gain: Mine, mine was the transgression: But thine the deadly pain: Lo, here I fall, my savior!

  4. T’is I deserve Thy place: Look on me with Thy Favor. Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

  5. What language should I borrow to thank thee, dearest Friend, For this thy dying sorrow Thy pity without end?

  6. Oh make me thine forever: and should I be fainting be Lord, let me never, never Outlive my love for thee.

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