Look, Ye Saints! The Sight Is Glorious:
See The Man Of Sorrows Now;
From The Fight Returned Victorious,
Every Knee To Him Shall Bow;
Crown Him, Crown Him,
Crown Him, Crown Him,
Crowns Become The Victor’s Brow.

Crown The Savior! Angels, Crown Him;
Rich The Trophies Jesus Brings;
In The Seat Of Power Enthrone Him,
While The Vault Of Heaven Rings;
Crown Him, Crown Him,
Crown Him, Crown Him,
Crown The Savior King Of Kings.

Sinners In Derision Scorned Him,
Mocking Thus The Savior’s Claim;
Saints And Angels Crowd Around Him,
Own His Title, Praise His Name;
Crown Him, Crown Him,
Crown Him, Crown Him,
Spread Abroad The Victor’s Fame.

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,
Crown Him, Crown Him,
King Of Kings And Lord Of Lords