O King most high of earth and sky,
On prostrate death thou treadest,
And with thy blood dost mark the road
Whereby to heav’n thou leadest.

O Lord of love, and throne above,
Beside th'Almighty Father,
Thou wilt not leave thy flock to grieve,
But to thyself wilt gather.

O Christ, behold thine orphaned fold,
Which thou hast borne with anguish,
steeped in the tide of thy rent side
O leave us not to languish.

The glorious gain of all thy pain
Henceforth thou dost inherit,
Now comes the hour, then gently show'r
On us thy promised Spirit.

Dear Lord, to thee all glory be,
Thy Father's throne ascending:
Thy reign as One and Three shall run
Through ages never ending