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 liis 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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