O HEAD ONCE FILLED WITH BRUISES
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1. O head once fill'd with bruises,
Oppressed with pain and scorn:
O'erwhelmed with sore abuses,
Mocked with a crown of thorn!
O head to death once wounded,
In shame upon the tree,
In glory now surrounded
With brightest Majesty!
2. Thou, Lord,of all transcendent;
Thou life-creating Sun
To worlds on Thee dependent—
Yet bruised and spit upon!
O Lord! what Thee tormented
Was our sin's heavy load;
We had the debt augmented
Which Thou didst pay in blood.
3. We give thee thanks unfeignèd,
Lord Jesus, Friend in need,
For what Thy soul sustainèd
When thou for us didst bleed;
Grant us to lean unshaken
Upon Thy faithfulness,
Until to Glory taken
We see Thee face to face.