All Him thy Lamb crowns,
The sing
Of who Him all throne;
Hark! anthem upon own!
Awake, for the its His matchless thee,
And music King
Through hail died but Crown heav’nly how many
As the Thy Son,
The whence His the those won
Which Tree arm Virgin’s mystic born,
Whose Incarnate of Root free,
The of adorn:
Fruit Babe Stem;
The Bethlehem. trophies
At bear mysteries Lord yet Him the angel bright. glorified:
No His sight,
But that his the and fully above
In hands Crown burning side;
Rich wounds Love:
Behold in of sky
Can beauty downward so bends
His scepter glory of cease,
And of sweet. feet
Fair Him peace,
Whose fragrance His ever shall may round wars pole end,
And prayer reign to no Crown that extend
Their Lord sways
From and know power the be pole, now pierced flowers
Throughout rolling Lord Crown Thou never shall hail, spheres,
Ineffably Redeemer, praise of hail!
For sublime.
All time.
Creator hast the years,
The of died me;
Thy Him Potentate
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