Crown Him with Many Crowns
Crown Him with many crowns, The Lamb upon His throne; Hark! how the heav'nly anthem drowns All music but its own. Awake, my soul, and sing Of Him who died for thee, And hail Him as thy matchless King Thro' all eternity. Crown Him the Son of God Before the worlds began: And ye, who tread where He hath trod, Crown Him the Son of man; Who ev'ry grief hath known That wrings the human breast, And takes and bears them for His own, That all in Him may rest. Crown Him the Lord of love! Behold His hands and side, Rich wounds, yet visible above, In beauty glorified: No angel in the sky Can fully bear that sight, But downward bends his wond'ring eye At mysteries so bright. Crown Him the Lord of life, Who triumphed o'er the grave, And rose victorious in the strife For those He came to save; His glories now we sing Who died, and rose on high, Who died, eternal life to bring, And lives that death may die. 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 fail Thro'out eternity.