Crown 111 111 the Lord of Ijovo :
Behold his hands and side, llich wounds yet visible above
In beauty glorified :
No angel in the sky
Can fully bear that sight, But downward bends his burning eye
At mysteries so bright.
Crown liim the ^'irgin's Son,
The God Incarnate born, Whose arm those crimson trojjhies won
M'hich now his brow udorn :
Fruit of the mystic Kose,
As of that Hose the Stem ; The l?oot whence mercy ever flows,
The Babe of Bethlehem.
Crown him the Lord of Peace :
AMiose power a sceptre sways
From 2>ole to pole, that wars may cease, And all be prayer and praise : His reign shall know no end, And round his pierced feet
Fair flowers of Paradise extend Their fragrance ever sweet.
Crown him the Lord of years,
The Potentate of time,
Creator of the rolling spheres, IneiTably sublime, .Ml hail, lledeemer, hail ! For tliou hast died for mc ;
Thy praise shall never, never fail Throuirhout cleruitv.
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