Hymn XLVIII. Common Metre. Christ the King of Saints

Come, ye that love the Saviour's name, And joy to make it known; The sovereign of your heart proclaim, And bow before his throne.

Behold your king, your Saviour, crown'd With glories all divine; And tell the wondering nations round, How bright these glories shine.

Infinite power and boundless love In him unite their rays; You that his heav'nly influence prove, Can you forbear his praise?

When in his earthly Courts, we view, The glories of our King; We long to love as angels do, And wish like them to sing.

And shall we long and wish in vain? Lord, teach our songs to rise; Thy love can animate the strain, And bid it reach the skies.

O happy period! glorious day! When heaven and earth shall raise, With all their powers, the raptur'd lay, To celebrate thy praise.