The King In All His Beauty

O lift your eyes to Heaven see
The Holy One eternal
Behold the Lord of Majesty
Exalted in His temple
As symphonies of angels’ praise
Now strain to sound His glory
Come worship, fall before His grace
The King in all His beauty

How worthy, how worthy
How worthy
The King in all His beauty

Now see the King who wears a crown
One made of shame and splinters
The sacrifice for ruined man
The substitute for sinners
As Earth is stained with royal blood
And quakes with love and fury
He breathes His last and bows His head
The King in all His beauty

How worthy, how worthy
How worthy
The King in all His beauty

Now see the Savior lifted up
The Lamb who reigns in splendor
The hope of every tribe and tongue
His kingdom is forever
Bring praise and honor to His courts
Bring wisdom, power, blessing
For endless ages we’ll adore
The King in all His beauty

How worthy, how worthy
How worthy
The King in all His beauty

—Matt Boswell, Matt Papa © 2019 Getty Music Publishing / Messenger Hymns / Getty Music Hymns and Songs / Love Your Enemies Publishing / Adm by MusicServices.org.

Afflicted Saint To Christ Draw Near

Afflicted saint, to Christ draw near,
Your Savior’s gracious promise hear;
His faithful Word you can believe:
That as your days your strength shall be.

Your faith is weak, your foes are strong,
And if the conflict should be long,
The Lord will make the tempter flee
That as your days your strength shall be.

So, sing with joy, afflicted one;
The battle’s fierce, but the victory’s won!
God shall supply all that you need;
Yes, as your days your strength shall be.

Should persecution rage and flame,
Still trust in your Redeemer’s name.
In fiery trials you shall see
That as your days your strength shall be.

So, sing with joy, afflicted one;
The battle’s fierce, but the victory’s won!
God shall supply all that you need;
Yes, as your days your strength shall be.

When called to bear your weighty cross
Or sore affliction, pain, or loss,
Or deep distress or poverty,
Still as your days your strength shall be.

So, sing with joy, afflicted one;
The battle’s fierce, but the victory’s won!
God shall supply all that you need;
Yes, as your days your strength shall be.

—Original words by John Fawcett (1782), additional words by Constance Dever. Music by Constance Dever. © 2018 Praise Factory Music / Sovereign Grace Worship / Sovereign Grace Music

O Christ What Burdens Bowed Thy Head

O Christ, what burdens bowed Thy head!
Our load was laid on Thee;
Thou stoodest in the sinner’s stead,
Didst bear all ill for me.
A Victim led, Thy blood was shed;
Now there’s no load for me.

Death and the curse were in our cup:
O Christ, ’twas full for Thee;
But Thou hast drained the last dark drop,
’Tis empty now for me.
That bitter cup, love drank it up;
Now blessing’s draught for me.

Jehovah lifted up His rod;
O Christ, it fell on Thee!
Thou wast sore stricken of Thy God;
There’s not one stroke for me.
Thy tears, Thy blood, beneath it flowed;
Thy bruising healeth me.

The tempest’s awful voice was heard,
O Christ, it broke on Thee!
Thy open bosom was my ward,
It braved the storm for me.
Thy form was scarred, Thy visage marred;
Now cloudless peace for me.

Jehovah bade His sword awake;
O Christ, it woke ’gainst Thee!
Thy blood the flaming blade must slake;
Thine heart its sheath must be;
All for my sake, my peace to make;
Now sleeps that sword for me.

For me, Lord Jesus, Thou hast died,
And I have died in Thee!
Thou’rt ris’n—my hands are all untied,
And now Thou liv’st in me.
When purified, made white and tried,
Thy glory then for me!

—Words by Anne R. Cousin. Music by Ira D. Sankey.