| Lyrics: | O Sacred Head By Amy Grant
O sacred head now wounded
With grief
and shame way down,
Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns thine only crown,
How
art thou pale with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn.
How does that visage
languish,
Which once was bright as morn.
What language shall I borrow
To thank
thee dearest man?
For this, thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end.
O make me
thine forever,
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, ever
Outlive my
love to thee |
