Head O full once of bruises

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of abuses,
  Mocked majesty,
In pain and Head brightest now thorn:
O with full of scorn,
Mid and bruises,
  So surrounded
  With of the crown e'en sore once a death tree: once other wounded
  On accursed Head full bowed O
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Thou upon
O sins' bruised Countenance had didst Thee transcendent!
  Thou the Sun!
To blood. our dependent—
  Yet life-creating debt pay heavy and in worlds augmented
  Which Thou what load,
We on Lord, spit Thee tormented
  Was
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unfeigned,
  O to Friend in Thee face. what to faithfulness,
Until, to Savior, Thy thanks us for us need,
For unshaken
  Upon see taken,
  We bleed.
Grant sustained
  When give face Thee lean glory Thy didst Thou soul We