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Good Friday

(XL.--"Herzlich thut mich verlangen."
"O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden.")


Sheet Music

O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden

Gerhardt, 1659

Ah wounded Head that bearest

Such bitter shame and scorn,

That now so meekly wearest

The mocking crown of thorn!

Erst reigning in the highest

In light and majesty,

Dishonour'd here Thou diest,

Yet here I worship Thee.

Thou noble Face, whose anger

Shall make a world to quail,

That glance is quench'd in languor

To which the sun were pale;

How hath its brightness vanish'd!

Those gracious eyes how dim!

What foe their light hath banish'd,

Who dared to scoff at Him?

All lovely hues have faded

That glow'd with warmth and life

As He endures unaided

The last and mortal strife;

The Mighty One of valour

Must yield Him as a prey,

Death triumphs in his pallour

O'er all His strength to-day.

Ah Lord, this cruel burden

Of right belongs to me;

Of my misdeeds the guerdon

Hath all been laid on Thee;

I cast me down before Thee,

Wrath were my rightful lot,

Yet hear me, I implore Thee,

Redeemer, spurn me not!

My Guardian, deign to own me,

My Shepherd, I am Thine;

What goodness hast Thou shewn me,

O Fount of Love Divine!

How oft Thy lips have fed me

On earth with angels' food!

How oft Thy Spirit led me

To stores of heavenly good!

Ah would that I were bidden

To share Thy cross and woes!

There all true joy lies hidden,

Thence all true comfort flows.

Ah well for me, if lying

Here at Thy feet, my Life,

I too with Thee were dying,

And thus might end my strife!

My soul doth melt within me,

O Jesus, dearest Friend,

That Thou shiouldst bear to win me

Such woes, for such an end!

Ah make me cling the firmer

To One so true to me,

And sink without a murmur

To sleep at last in Thee.

Yes, when I hence betake me,

Lord, do not Thou depart;

Oh I never more forsake me

When death is at my heart,

And faith and hope are sinking,

O'erwhelm'd with dread dismay;

Thou barest all unshrinking,--

Oh chase my fears away!

Appear then, my Defender,

My Comfort, ere I die!

This life I can surrender

If but I see Thee nigh;

My dim eyes shall behold Thee,

Upon Thy cross thall dwell,

My heart by faith enfold Thee

Who dieth thus, dies well!

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