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» O Sacred Head Now Wounded
Christ the life of all the living, Christ, the Death of death, our foe, Who, thyself for me once giving To the darkest depths of woe--Through thy suff'rings, death, and merit I eternal life inherit. Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto thee.
Stanza 2:
Thou, ah, thou hast taken on thee Bonds and stripes, a cruel rod; pain and scorn were heaped upon thee, O thou sinless Son of God! Thus didst thou my
soul deliver From the bonds of sin forever. Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto thee.
Stanza 3:
Thou hast borne the smiting only That my wounds might all be whole; Thou hast suffered, sad and lonely, Rest to give my weary soul; Yea the curse of
God enduring, Blessing unto me securing. Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto thee.
Stanza 4:
Heartless scoffers did surround thee, Treating thee with cruel scorn, And with piercing thorns they crowned thee, All disgrace thou, Lord, hast borne
That as thine thou mightest own me and with heav'nly glory crown me. Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto thee.
Stanza 5:
Thou hast suffered men to bruise thee That from pain I might be free; Falsely did the foes accuse thee--Thence I gain security. Comfortless thy soul
did languish Me to comfort in my anguish. Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto thee.
Stanza 6:
Thou hast suffered great affliction And hast borne it patiently, Even death by crucifixion, Fully to atone for me. Thou didst choose to be tormented
That my doom should be prevented. Thousand, thousand thanks shall be, Dearest Jesus, unto thee.
Stanza 7:
Then for all that wrought my pardon, For thy sorrows deep and sore, For thine anguish in the garden, I will thank thee evermore, Thank thee for thy
groaning, sighing, For thy bleeding and thy dying, For that last triumphant cry, And shall praise thee, Lord, on high.