Good Friday (3)

O Sacred  Head Surrounded

O sacred head, surrounded

by crown of piercing thorn!

O bleeding head, so wounded,

reviled and put to scorn!

Death's pallid hue comes over you

The glow of life decays,

yet angel hosts adore thee

and tremble as they gaze

I see thy strength and vigor

all fading in the strife,

and death with cruel rigor,

bereaving thee of life;

O agony and dying!

O love to sinners free!

Jesus, all grace supplying,

O turn thy face on me.

                                                         In this thy bitter passion,

                                                        Good Shepherd, think of me

                                                        with thy most sweet compassion,

                                                        unworthy though I be:

                                                        beneath thy cross abiding

                                                        for ever would I rest,

                                                        in thy dear love confiding,

                                                        and with thy presence blest.

    

Bernard of Clairvaux (1091-1153)