O Sacred Head Surrounded

O Sacred Head, surrounded
By crown of piercing thorn.
O Bleeding Head, so wounded, 
Reviled and put to scorn.
Our sins have marred the glory
Of thy most holy Face,
Yet angel hosts adore thee,
And tremble as they gaze.

The Lord of ever'y nation
Was hung upon a tree;
His death was our salvation, 
Our sins, his agony.
O Jesus, by thy Passion, 
Thy Life in us increase;
Thy death for us did fashion
Our pardon and our peace.

 Sir W. H. Baker, Melvin Farell, S.S.,

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