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
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
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 every 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 life, who triumphed over the grave,
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 peace, whose power a scepter sways
From pole to
pole, that wars may cease, and all be prayer and praise.
His reign shall know
no end, and round His piercèd feet
Fair flowers of paradise extend their
fragrance ever sweet.
Crown Him the Lord of love, behold His hands and side,
Those wounds, yet
visible above, in beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky can fully bear that
But downward bends his burning eye at mysteries so bright.
Crown Him the Lord of Heaven, enthroned in worlds above,
Crown Him the
King to Whom is given the wondrous name of Love.
Crown Him with many crowns,
as thrones before Him fall;
Crown Him, ye kings, with many crowns, for He is
King of all.
Crown Him the Lord of lords, who over all doth reign,
Who once on earth,
the incarnate Word, for ransomed sinners slain,
Now lives in realms of light,
where saints with angels sing
Their songs before Him day and night, their
God, Redeemer, King.
Crown Him the Lord of years, the Potentate of time,
Creator of the rolling
spheres, ineffably sublime.
All hail, Redeemer, hail! For Thou has died for
Thy praise and glory shall not fail throughout eternity.