1 

Jesus, Thy head, once crown'd with thorns,

   Is crown'd with glory now;

Heaven's royal diadem adorns

   The mighty Victor's brow.

 2 

Thou glorious light of courts above,

   Joy of the saints below,

To us still manifest Thy love,

   That we its depths may know.

 3 

To us Thy cross with all its shame,

   With all its grace be giv'n;

Though earth disowns Thy lowly name,

   God honors it in heav'n.

 4 

Who suffer with Thee, Lord, today,

   Shall also with Thee reign:

Then let it be our joy to pay

   The price, this goal attain.

 5 

To us Thy cross is life and health;

   'Twas shame and death to Thee;

Our present glory, joy and wealth,

   Our everlasting stay.