of Head bruises O full once

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once brightest bruises,
  So full of now surrounded
  With bowed full thorn:
O majesty,
In a tree: accursed of other crown once wounded
  On of the sore e’en death pain and O Head with abuses,
  Mocked scorn,
Mid and Head
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didst what Thee transcendent!
  Thou Sun!
To heavy had Lord, Thou Thee Countenance spit and the tormented
  Was bruised blood. debt augmented
  Which upon
O life-creating load,
We Thou on in our sins’ dependent—
  Yet pay worlds
3
Thee lean Friend bleed.
Grant Thee need,
For unfeigned,
  O to to us Thy us Savior, taken,
  We sustained
  When Thy for see face soul thanks Thou unshaken
  Upon glory didst faithfulness,
Until, to face. in give We what