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Crown Him with Many Crowns
Crown him with many crowns, The Lamb upon his throne; Hark! how the heavenly 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 Through all eternity.
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 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 their burning eye At mysteries so bright.
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 Throughout eternity.
Crown him the Virgin's Son! The God Incarnate born, Whose arm those crimson trophies won Which 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 peace! Whose power a scepter sways, From pole to pole,--that wars may cease, Absorbed in prayer and praise:
His reign shall know no end, And round his pierced feet Fair flowers of paradise extend Their fragrance ever sweet.
Crown him the Lord of heaven! One with the Father known,-- And the blest Spirit, through him given From yonder triune throne!
All hail! Redeemer,--Hail! For Thou hast died for me; Thy praise shall never, never fail Throughout eternity!
Give him many crowns, The Lamb on his throne; Listen! how the heavenly song drowns All other music:
Wake up, my soul, and sing Of him who died for you, And greet him as your unmatched King Forever.
Crown him the Lord of life, Who conquered the grave, And rose victorious in the battle For those he came to save;
We now sing his glories Who died and rose high, Who died to bring eternal life, And lives so that death may die.
Crown him the Lord of love; Look at his hands and side, Rich wounds, still visible above, Made beautiful:
No angel in the sky Can fully endure that sight, But looks down with burning eyes At such bright mysteries.
Crown him the Lord of years, The ruler of time, Creator of the moving spheres, Indescribably sublime.
All hail, Redeemer, hail! For you have died for me; Your praise shall never fail Throughout eternity.
Crown him the Virgin's Son! The God made flesh, Whose arm won those red trophies Which now decorate his brow!
Fruit of the mystic Rose As of that Rose the Stem: The Root, from which mercy always flows, The Baby of Bethlehem!
Crown him the Lord of peace! Whose power holds a scepter, From pole to pole,--that wars may end, Absorbed in prayer and praise:
His reign shall never end, And around his pierced feet Beautiful flowers of paradise spread Their fragrance always sweet.
Crown him the Lord of heaven! One with the Father known,-- And the blessed Spirit, through him given From that triune throne!
All hail! Redeemer,--Hail! For You have died for me; Your praise shall never fail Throughout eternity!