The countless multitudes on high,
Who tune their songs to Jesus’ Name,
All merit of their own deny,
And Jesus’ worth alone proclaim.

Firm on the ground of sovereign grace
They stand before Jehovah’s throne;
The new song in that blessèd place
Is, “Thou art worthy, Thou alone!”

With spotless robes of purest white,
And branches of triumphal palm,
They shout, with transports of delight,
Heaven’s ceaseless, universal psalm;

“Salvation’s glory all be paid
To Him who sits upon the throne,
And to the Lamb whose blood was shed:
Thou, Thou art worthy, Thou alone;

For Thou was slain, and in Thy blood
These robes were washed so spotless pure!
Thou mad’st us kings and priests to God:
For ever let Thy praise endure!”

While thus the ransomed myriads shout,
“Amen!” the holy angels cry—
Amen! Amen! resounds throughout
The boundless regions of the sky.

O for a sweet, inspiring ray,
To animate our feeble strains,
From the bright realms of endless day,
The blissful realms where Jesus reigns.

There low before the glorious throne,
Adoring saints and angels fall!
And with delightful worship own
His smile their bliss, their heav’n, their all.

Immortal glories crown His head,
While tuneful hallelujahs rise,
And love, and joy, and triumph spread,
Thro’ all th’assemblies of the skies.

He smiles, and seraphs tune their songs,
To boundless rapture while they gaze;
Ten thousand, joyful tongues
Resound His everlasting praise.

See the ransomed millions stand,
Palms of conquest in their hand;
This before the throne their strain,
“Hell is vanquished, death is slain;
Blessing, honor, glory, might,
Are the Conqueror’s native right;
Thrones and powers before Him fall,
Lamb of God and Lord of all!”

Hasten, Lord the promised hour;
Come in glory and in power;
Still Thy foes are unsubdued;
Nature sighs to be renewed.
Time has nearly reached its sum;
All things, with Thy bride, say “Come”;
Jesus, whom all worlds adore,
Come, and reign forevermore.

Thro’ the new Heav’n what voices ring
In praise triumphant to our King?
Like many waters, hark, they pour
Their tide along the golden shore!
“All blessing, honor, power divine,
All might and majesty be Thine!
Holy and true are all Thy words,
Thou King of kings and Lord of lords!”

These from the martyrs bed of flame,
These from the gloomy dungeon came,
These, on the dreadful battlefield,
Stood firm till death and would not yield.
All voices in that faithful throng,
Swell clear and true the glorious song;
“Holy and true are all Thy words,
Thou King of kings and Lord of lords!”

These bore Thy banner o’er the sea,
Exiled and poor for love of Thee,
And found in danger and distress,
Thy presence in the wilderness.
No storm could shake, no ill could harm
So strong was Thy protecting arm,
“Holy and true are all Thy words,
Thou King of kings and Lord of lords!”