Behold the Lamb with glory crowned,
To Him all pow'r is giv'n:
No place too high for Him is found,
No place too high in heav'n.
He fills the throne — the throne above;
Its rights to Him belong;
The object of His Father's love,
Theme of the ransomed's song.
Though high yet He accepts the praise
His people offer here;
The faintest, feeblest note they raise
Will reach the Savior's ear.
This song be ours, we join in one
To celebrate the Name
Of Him that sits upon the throne,
And to exalt the Lamb.
To Him whom men despise and slight,
To Him be glory giv'n;
The crown is His, and His by right
The highest place in heav'n.