1 Jesus, our Head, once crown'd with thorns,
Is crown'd with glory now;
Heaven's royal diadem adorns
The mighty Victor's brow.

2 Delight of all who dwell above,
The joy of 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, is given;
Though earth disowns Thy lowly name,
All worship it in heaven.

4 Who suffer with Thee, Lord, below,
Will reign with Thee above;
Then let it be our joy to know
This way of peace and love.

5 To us thy cross is life and health,
Though shame and death to Thee;
On earth, it is our joy and wealth,
In heaven, our crown shall be.