King ever glorious!
The dews of death are gathering round Thee,
Upon the cross Thy foes have bound Thee.
Thy strength is gone!
Not in Thy Majesty,
Robed in Heaven's supremest splendour
But in weakness and surrender,
Thou hangest here.
Who can be like Thee?
Pilate high in Zion dwelling?
Rome with arms the world compelling?
Proud though they be!
Thou art sublime!
Far more awful in Thy weakness,
More than kingly in Thy meekness,
Thou, Son of God!
Glory, and honour -
Let the world divided and take them;
Crown its monarchs and unmake them -
But Thou -
Thou it reign!
Here in abasement
Crownless,
Disrobed,
And bleeding:
There, in glory interceding,
Thou art the King!
Thou art the King!

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN