O Sacred Head...

O sacred Head, now wounded,

With grief and shame weighed down,

Now scornfully surrounded

With thorns Thy 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 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.

                                       -J. S. Bach wrote music

                                    -Authorship uncertain

God bless and be well.