1.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.
2.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.
3.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.
4.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.
5.Crown Him the Lord of peace,
Whose pow’r 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 pierced feet
Fair flow’rs of paradise extend
their fragrance ever sweet.
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Same meter but needs editorial underlay: TERRA BEATA.
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