hymns

Because I love this hymn:

O sacred Head now wonded,With grief and shame weighed down;
Now scornfully surroundedWith thorns thine only crown;
O sacred Head, what glory,What bliss till now was thine!
Yet though despised and gory,I joy to call thee mine.


What thou, my LORD has sufferdWas all for siners' 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,Vouch-safe to me thy grace.


What language shall I borow 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.