The head that once was crowned with thorns
Is crowned with
glory now;
A royal diadem adorns
The mighty victor¡¦s brow.
The joy of all who dwell above,
The joy of all below,
To whom He manifests His love,
And grants His Name to know.
To them the cross with all its shame,
With all its grace,
is given;
Their name an everlasting name,
Their joy the
joy of Heaven.
They suffer with their Lord below;
They reign with Him
above;
Their profit and their joy to know
The mystery of
His love.
The cross He bore is life and health,
Though shame and
death to Him,
His people¡¦s hope, His people¡¦s wealth,
Their everlasting theme.