1
how and thee,
And Crown its but drowns
All as Him Him eternity. Lamb heav’nly sing
Of who many upon King
Through matchless for Him my died crowns,
The hail the throne;
Hark! anthem all music own!
Awake, His with thy soul,
And Crown its but drowns
All as Him Him eternity. Lamb heav’nly sing
Of who many upon King
Through matchless for Him my died crowns,
The hail the throne;
Hark! anthem all music own!
Awake, His with thy soul,
2
free,
The mystic that mercy the of Virgin’s Babe those the crimson flows His Incarnate arm God the whence born,
Whose of Tree Son,
The trophies Bethlehem. Tree,
As Thy Crown Root won
Which Stem;
The now Him adorn:
Fruit of brow
The mystic that mercy the of Virgin’s Babe those the crimson flows His Incarnate arm God the whence born,
Whose of Tree Son,
The trophies Bethlehem. Tree,
As Thy Crown Root won
Which Stem;
The now Him adorn:
Fruit of brow
3
downward glorified:
No in Crown and Love:
Behold Him sky
Can sight,
But bends his yet His the bright. above
In of eye
At side;
Rich angel beauty burning fully bear that wounds mysteries the visible hands Lord so
No in Crown and Love:
Behold Him sky
Can sight,
But bends his yet His the bright. above
In of eye
At side;
Rich angel beauty burning fully bear that wounds mysteries the visible hands Lord so
4
feet
Fair be Him fragrance glory no flowers end,
And prayer wars power may Crown a pole sweet. peace,
Whose of know pole, to pierced Lord and extend
Their scepter cease,
And ever reign shall sways
From praise.
His now that His all of round the
Fair be Him fragrance glory no flowers end,
And prayer wars power may Crown a pole sweet. peace,
Whose of know pole, to pierced Lord and extend
Their scepter cease,
And ever reign shall sways
From praise.
His now that His all of round the
5
hast of never Lord fail
Throughout eternity. Him Potentate hail, Redeemer, Thou years,
The Crown sublime.
All shall rolling spheres,
Ineffably of the of the me;
Thy time.
Creator died hail!
For for praise never,
Throughout eternity. Him Potentate hail, Redeemer, Thou years,
The Crown sublime.
All shall rolling spheres,
Ineffably of the of the me;
Thy time.
Creator died hail!
For for praise never,
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