J. H. Stuart

SOUND ye the trumpet-call;

Heralds proclaim

Jesus as Lord of all,

Sound forth His fame:

Tell of His great renown,

Lift high the kingly crown,

Let every knee bow down

At His blest name.


Who will go forth for Him?

Who will arise?

Though eyes with tears are dim,

Severed love’s ties:

Counting all things but loss,

Earth’s highest gain but dross,

And glorying in the cross,

Who will arise?


Go, for the crowning day

Draws ever near;

Time will soon pass away,

Jesus be here:

Raise ye the cross where now

Nations to idols bow;

Dawn o’er the mountain’s brow

Tells He is near.


Hark to the trumpet-blast!

Jesus is King!

He comes to reign at last,

All conquering:

Then the wide world shall own,

Bending before His throne,

Jesus is King alone,

Jesus is King!


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