King Jesus

by Shirley Chacko

Look, ye saints, the sight is glorious;
See the Man of Sorrows now;
From the fight returned victorious,
Ev'ry knee to Him shall bow;
Crown Him! Crown Him!
Crowns become the Victor's brow.

Sinners in derision crowned Him,
Mocking thus the Saviour's claim;
Saints and angels crowd around Him,
Won His title, praise His Name;
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!
King of kings, and Lord of lords.

Source: MOSC

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