Dateline: Feb. 5, 2007
Reflection on His Love
| O sacred Head, now wounded, |
| With grief and shame weighed down, |
| Now scornfully surrounded |
| With thorns Thine only crown: |
| How pale Thou art with anguish, |
| With sore abuse and scorn, |
| How does that visage languish, |
| Which once was bright as morn! |
| What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered |
| Was all for sinners' gain; |
| Mine, mine was the transgression, |
| But thine the deadly pain. |
| Lo, here I fall, my Savior; |
| 'Tis I deserve Thy place; |
| Look on my with Thy favor, |
| Assist me with Thy grace. |
| What language shall I borrow |
| 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. Amen. |
by Paul Gerhardt (listen online at http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/o/s/osacredh.htm)