Author: Bernard de Clairvaux ~ Meter: 7.6.7.6.D.
O Head! once full of bruises, So full of pain and scorn, 'Mid other sore abuses Mocked with a crown of thorn; O Head! e'en now surrounded With brightest majesty, In death once bowed and wounded On the accursed tree: Thou countenance transcendent! Thou life-creating Sun! To worlds on Thee dependent — Yet bruised and spit upon: O Lord! what Thee tormented Was our sins heavy load, We had the debt augmented Which Thou didst pay in blood. We give Thee thanks unfeigned, O Saviour! Friend in need, For what Thy soul sustained When Thou for us didst bleed; Grant us to lean unshaken Upon Thy faithfulness; Until to glory taken, We see Thee face to face.