He reigned in heaven, and angels stood
In silent awe before His throne,
Where rays of glory, like a flood
Of ambient luster, o’er Him shone;
And heaven’s eternal arches rang,
Filled with the echo of His name,
Where thousand times ten thousand sang
With ceaseless joy and glad acclaim;
While ranks of shining seraphim
Struck their bright harps of praise to Him.
He came on earth, the Son of Man,
He laid His wondrous glory by—
Who in that human face might scan
Trace of that power that ruled the sky?
Few were His hours of rest and brief;
His lips refuse the cup of mirth,
A Man of sorrows and of grief,
He bore the destiny of earth:
A day of toil, night of prayer,
He taught His wearied frame to bear.
He lived in heaven, the King of kings,
The God of hosts, the Lord of all;
The angels spread their glorious wings,
Prompt to obey His every call:
And joy unmingled, unsubdued,
Unknown, ineffable delight,
Fell o’er the blessed throng who stood
Before His footstool day and night;
No eye hath seen, no ear hath heard,
The bliss of heaven’s eternal Lord.
He bore on earth a dreary lot,
His holy heart with anguish torn;
He came, His own received Him not,
He drank the dregs of shame and scorn.
Forsaken in His bitterest hour,
His chosen followers left His side:
Can this be He? the God of power!
Despised, rejected, crucified!
A crown of mockery on His head,
And those He loved and trusted, fled!
Yes, this is He, and this, is love,
Love unimagined and unknown;
He left His Father’s joys above,
Turned from His kingdom and His throne;
Yea, cast aside His holy crown,
A weary wayfarer became;
Bore e’en Jehovah’s bitter frown,
Endured the cross, despised the shame,
Then conquered hell and burst the grave,
And rose omnipotent to save.