...from the Lectionary reading for this week.

O sacred Head, now wounded,
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded
Whit thorns thine only crown;
How pale thou art with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How does this visage languish
Which once was bright as morn!

What thou, my Lord, hast suffered
Was all for sinners' gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior!
'Tis I deserve thy place;
Look on me with thy favor,
Vouchsafe to me thy grace.

What language shall I borrow
To thank thee, dearest friend,
For this 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.

Amen.