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!