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.
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 ev'ry grief hath known that wrings the human breast, and takes and bears them for his own, that all in him may rest.
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.
Crown him the Lord of heav'n, enthroned in worlds above; crown him, the King to whom is giv'n the wondrous name of Love. Crown him with many crowns, as thrones before him fall; crown him, ye kings, with many crowns, for he is King of all.