O Christ, our King, Cre-a-tor, Lord,
Sa-vior of all who trust Thy Word,
To them who seek Thee ev-er near,
Now to our prais-es bend Thine ear.
In Thy dear cross a grace is found
(It flows from ev-ery stream-ing wound)
Whose pow-er in-bred sin con-trols,
Breaks the firm bond, and frees our souls.
Thou didst cre-ate the stars of night;
Yet Thou hast veiled in flesh Thy light,
Hast deigned a mor-tal form to wear,
A mor-tal's pain-ful lot to bear.
When Thou didst hang up-on the tree,
The quak-ing earth ac-knowl-edged Thee;
When Thou didst there yield up Thy breath,
The world grew dark as shades of death.
Now in the Fa-ther's glo-ry high,
Great Con-queror, nev-er-more to died,
Us by Thy might-y power de-fend,
And reign through a-ges with-out end.