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!