3rd Sunday of Lent

O Sacred Head, Surrounded

O Sacred Head, surrounded,
By crown of piercing thorn!
O bleeding Head, so wounded,
Reviled and put to scorn!
Death’s pallid hue comes o’er Thee,
The glow of life decays,
Yet angel hosts adore Thee,
And tremble as they gaze.

I see Thy strength and vigour
All fading in the strife,
And death, with cruel rigor,
Bereaving Thee of life;
O agony and dying!
O love to sinners free!
Jesus, all grace supplying,
O turn Thy face on me!

In this Thy bitter passion,
Good Shepherd, think of me,
With Thy most sweet compassion,
Unworthy though I be;
Beneath Thy Cross abiding,
Forever would I rest,
In Thy dear love confiding,
And with Thy presence blest.
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Superior General's Letter to Friends and Benefactores #70