bruises Head once full of O

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