O bleeding head so wounded, reviled, and put to scorn!
The power of death comes o'r You, the glow of life decays.
Yet angel hosts adore You, and tremble as they gaze.
I see your strength and vigor, all fading in the strife,
And death with cruel rigor, bereaving you of life.
O agony and dying! O love to sinner's free!
Jesus, all grace supplying, O turn your face on me.
In this, your bitter passion, Good Shepherd, think of me,
With your most sweet compassion, unworthy though I be;
Beneath Your cross abiding, for ever would I rest,
In Your dear love confiding, and with your presence blest.