Mine, mine was the transgression

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This is an old hymn that we don’t hear much any more, but it comes to mind when I think of Christ’s death on the cross for our sins. I found a number of different translations and extra verses online (such as here), but this is close to the one I am familiar with.

O sacred Head, now wounded,
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns, Thine only crown;
O sacred Head, what glory,
What bliss till now was Thine!
Yet, though despised and gory,
I joy to call Thee mine.

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

What language shall I borrow
To thank thee, dearest Friend,
For this, thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
Lord, make me thine forever,
and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never
Outlive my love to Thee..

 -Bernard of Clairvaux

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