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.