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.