Crown Him with Many Crowns

Crown Him with many crowns,The Lamb upon His throne;Hark! how the heav’nly anthem drownsAll music but its own;Awake, my soul, and singOf Him who died for thee,And hail Him as thy matchless KingThrough all eternity.

Crown Him the Virgin’s Son,The God incarnate born,Whose arm those crimson trophies wonWhich now His brow adorn;Fruit of the mystic rose,As of that rose the stem;The root whence mercy ever flows,The Babe of Bethlehem.

Crown Him the Lord of loveBehold His hands and side,Rich wounds, yet visible above,In beauty glorified.No angel in the skyCan fully bear that sight,But downward bends his wond’ring eyeAt mysteries so bright.

Crown Him the Lord of peace,Whose power a scepter swaysFrom pole to pole, that wars may ceaseAnd all be prayer and praise.His reign shall know no end,And round His piercèd feetFair flowers of paradise extendTheir fragrance ever sweet.

Crown Him the Lord of years,The Potentate of time,Creator of the rolling spheres,Ineffably sublime.All hail, Redeemer, hail!For Thou hast died for me;Thy praise shall never, never failThroughout eternity.