Behold, The Lord To Zion Rides,
And Crowds Hosannas Sing;
They Spread Their Garments In The Way,
And Hail Him As A King.
O Zion, Blind With Earthly Pride,
Why Could’st Thou Not Behold
The Christ Of God, Whom Sage And Seer
From Age To Age Foretold?
A King Indeed, But Not To Reign
By Power Of Earthly Might;
The Glory Of Whose Royal State
Is Hid From Carnal Sight.
Whose Subjects Are The Souls Of Men
From Thrall Of Darkness Won;
Whose Kingdom Knows No Bounds, Within
The Dawn And Setting Sun.
Behold Thy King To Zion Rides
Where He The Cross Shall Bear;
And On That Throne With Blood Bedecked,
His Robe Of Purple Wear;
Where Slaves To Sin His Love Shall View,
And From Their Bondage Rise
To Noble Fealty, By The Power
Of Loving Sacrifice.
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