Lyrics O Sacred Head Now Wounded - Alessandra Sorace

O sacred Head, now wounded With grief and shame weighed down;
Now scornfully surrounded With thorns,thine only crown;
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, hast suffered Was all for sinners' gain:
Mine, mine was the transgression, But thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Saviour! '
Tis I deserve thy place;
Look on me with thy favor, vouch-safe to me thy grace.
What language shall I borrow To thank thee,
Dearest Friend, For this thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me thine forever; And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never never Outlive my love to thee.