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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
Through all eternity.
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 burning eye
At mysteries so bright.
Crown him the Lord of peace;
Whose pow'r 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 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.
Matthew Bridges, 1852
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2 comments:
I've always loved this song. We'd to sing it at the Russian Baptist Church in L.A.
Have a great day Dorothy...
Late getting here, but this one is a favorite of mine, with all its names for God. We sang it a few weeks ago -- but only because our rector is on sabbatical. He doesn't like it and never schedules it!
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