1 

Sound ye the trumpet-call;

   Heralds proclaim

Jesus as Lord of all,

   Sound forth His fame;

Tell of His great renown,

Lift high the kingly crown,

Let every knee bow down

   At His blest name.

 2 

Who will go forth for Him?

   Who will arise?

Though eyes with tears are dim,

   Severed love's ties:

Counting all things but loss,

Earth's highest gain but dross,

And glorying in the cross,

   Who will arise?

 3 

Go, for the crowning day

   Draws ever near;

Time will soon pass away,

   Jesus be here:

Raise ye the cross where now

Nations to idols bow;

Dawn o'er the mountain's brow

   Tells He is near.

 4 

Hark to the trumpet-blast!

   Jesus is King!

He comes to reign at last,

   All conquering:

Then the wide world shall own,

Bending before His throne,

Jesus is King alone,

   Jesus is King!