220 PASSION CHORALE 7.6.7.6.D.

TE

10 sa- cred Head, now wound - ed, With grief and shame weighed down;

entret nos EU FLE

O

SEAMLES

Now scorn - fully sur-round - ed With thorns, Thine on - ly crown;

VAZIFHOR: BOO

::

Hans Leo Hassler, 1601: harmonized by J. S. Bach, 1729

O sa - cred Head, what glo ry, What bliss till now was Thine!

8/198

Yet, though despised and go ry, I joy to call Thee mine. A - MEN.

2 O noblest Brow and dearest,
In other days, the world
All feared when Thou appearedst;
What shame on Thee is hurled!
How art Thou pale with anguish,

With sore abuse and scorn; How does that visage languish

Which once was bright as morn!

112

3 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 Saviour!

'Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor,
Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

round - ed

5 Be near when I am dying,

O show Thy cross to me;
And for my succor flying,

wounded, With grief and shame weighed down;

O

glo

Joseph P. Holbrook, 1862

With thorns, Thine on

. ry, What bliss till now

joy ry, I

ly crown;

Yet, though de-spised and go

exp of pÃO

was Thine!

to call Thee mine.

A-MEN.

224 OLIVE'S BROW L. M.

4

4

g

1 'Tis midnight; and on Olive's brow The star is dimmed that lately shone:

264 266 4

B

羽

'Tis midnight; in the gar - den now The suffering Saviour prays a lone. A-MEN.

2 FEED

33

2 'Tis midnight; and, from all removed, Emmanuel wrestles lone with fears: E'en the disciple that He loved

Heeds not His Master's grief and tears. 3 'Tis midnight; and, for others' guilt, The Man of Sorrows weeps in blood:

225 HAMBURG L. M.

J

04 254

1 When I sur - vey the wondrous cross

William B. Bradbury, 1853

4

'Tis midnight; from the heavenly plains
Is borne the song that angels know:
Unheard by mortals are the strains

That sweetly soothe the Saviour's woe.
William B. Tappan, 1822

3 See, from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down:

Yet He that hath in anguish knelt
Is not forsaken by His God.

Arr. from a Gregorian Chant, by Lowell Mason, 1824

Clela

My rich-est gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride. A - MEN.

2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God:
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.

4

Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown ?
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so Divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Rev. Isaac Watts, 1707 (Text of 1709)