Hail! thou Head, so bruised and wounded,
With the crown of thorns surrounded,
Smitten with the mocking reed,
Wounds which may not cease to bleed
Trickling faint and slow.
Hail! from whose most blessed brow
None can wipe the blood-drops now;
All the bloom of life has fled,
Mortal paleness there instead
Thou before whose presence dread
Angels trembling bow.
All thy vigor and thy life
Fading in this bitter strife;
Death his stamp on thee has set,
Hollow and emaciate,
Faint and drooping there.
Thou this agony and scorn
Hast for me a sinner borne!
Me, unworthy, all for me!
With those wounds of love on thee,
Glorious Face, appear!
Yet in this thine agony,
Faithful Shepherd, think of me
From whose lips of love divine
Sweetest draughts of life are mine;
Purest honey flows;
All unworthy of thy thought,
Guilty, yet reject me not;
Unto me thy head incline,--
Let that dying head of thine
In mine arms repose.
Let me true communion know
With thee in thy sacred woe,
Counting all beside but dross,
Dying with thee on thy cross;--
'Neath it will I die!
Thanks to thee with every breath
Jesus, for thy bitter death;
Grant thy guilty one this prayer:
When my dying hour is near,
Gracious God, be nigh!
When my dying hour must be,
Be not absent then from me;
In that dreadful hour, I pray,
Jesus come without delay;
See, and set me free.
When thou biddest me depart,
Whom I cleave to with my heart.
Lover of my soul, be near,
With thy saving cross appear,--
Show thyself to me!