1 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.
2 Crown the Savior, angels, crown him;
rich the trophies Jesus brings;
in the seat of pow'r enthrone him,
while the vault of heaven rings.
Crown him! Crown him!
Crown the Savior King of kings.
3 Sinners in derision crowned him,
mocking thus the Savior's claim;
saints and angels crowd around him,
own his title, praise his name.
Crown him! Crown him!
Spread abroad the Victor's fame!
4 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.