1 Savior Divine, Thy crown was thorns;
Thy sacred brow that crown did press,
That Thou mighst on Thine own bestow
The glorious crown of Righteousness!

2 Hold Thou this crown before our eyes,
To give us courage in the strife
That we must wage, if we would rise
To share in heav’n immortal life.

3 Hail! Joyous hour when Thou shalt say,
As we our trusty arms lay down,
“The faith ye kept! Ye won the day,
Come, wear the prize—a soul starred crown!”