O sacred head surrounded

By crown of piercing thorn!

O bleeding head, so wounded,

Reviled and put to scorn!

Death's pallid hue comes o'er thee,

The glow of life decays,

Yet angel hosts adore thee,

And tremble as they gaze.

I see thy strength and vigor,

All fading in the strife,

And death with cruel rigor,

Bereaving thee of life;

O agony and dying!

O love to sinners free!

Jesus, all grace supplying,

O turn thy face on me.

In this, thy bitter passion,

Good Shepherd, think of me

With thy most sweet compassion,

Unworthy though I be:

Beneath thy cross abiding

For ever would I rest,

In thy dear love confiding,

And with thy presence blest.

Be near when I am dying;

O show thy cross to me:

And to my succour flying,

Come, Lord, and set me free.

These eyes, new faith receiving,

From thee shall never move;

For he who dies believing,

Dies safely in thy love.

Amen.