LOOK YE SAINTS THE SIGHT IS GLORIOUS

Look, ye saints, the sight is glorious;

See the Man of Sorrows now,

From the fight returned victorious;

Every knee to Him shall bow:

Crown Him! Crown Him!

Crown Him! Crown Him!

Crowns become the Victor's brow.

Crown the Saviour, angels, crown Him;

Rich the trophies Jesus brings;

In the seat of power enthrone Him,

While the vault of heaven rings:

Crown Him! Crown Him!

Crown Him! Crown Him!

Crown the Saviour, King of kings!

Sinners in derision crowned Him,

Mocking thus the Saviour's claim;

Saints and angels throng around Him,

Own His title, praise His name:

Crown Him! Crown Him!

Crown Him! Crown Him!

Spread abroad the Victor's fame.

Hark, those bursts of acclamation!

Hark, those loud triumphant chords!

Jesus takes the highest station:

O what joy the sight affords!

Crown Him! Crown Him!

Crown Him! Crown Him!

King of kings, and Lord of lords! ......