O HEAD, ONCE FILLED WITH BRUISES

O head, once filled 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.

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.

We give Thee thanks unfeigned
Lord Jesus, 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.