| Crown Him with many crowns, the Lamb upon His throne.
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| Hark! |
| How the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own.
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| Awake, my soul, and sing of Him who died for thee,
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| And hail Him as thy matchless King through all eternity.
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| Crown Him the Lord of life, who triumphed over the grave,
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| And rose victorious in the strife for those He came to save.
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| His glories now we sing, who died, and rose on high,
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| Who died eternal life to bring, and lives that death may die.
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| Crown Him
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| Crown Him
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| Crown Him
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| Crown Him the Lord of love, behold His hands and side,
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| Those wounds, yet visible above, in beauty glorified.
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| No angel in the sky can fully bear that sight,
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| But downward bends his burning eye at mysteries so bright. |