Behold the Lamb with glory crowned,

To Him all pow'r is giv'n:

No place too high for Him is found,

No place too high in heav'n.

He fills the throne — the throne above;

Its rights to Him belong;

The object of His Father's love,

Theme of the ransomed's song.

Though high yet He accepts the praise

His people offer here;

The faintest, feeblest note they raise

Will reach the Savior's ear.

This song be ours, we join in one

To celebrate the Name

Of Him that sits upon the throne,

And to exalt the Lamb.

To Him whom men despise and slight,

To Him be glory giv'n;

The crown is His, and His by right

The highest place in heav'n.