O Sacred Head

O sacred Head, now wounded with grief and shame weighed down
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns, Thine only crown
How pale Thou art with anguish with sore abuse and scorn
How does that visage languish which once was bright as morn

What Thou, my Lord, has suffered was all for sinners gain
Mine, mine was the transgression but Thine the deadly pain
Lo, here I fall, my Savior 'tis I deserve Thy place
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace

What language shall I borrow (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) outlive my love to Thee
Outlive my love to Thee