Dost thou truly seek renown
Christ his glory sharing?
Wouldst thou win the heavenly crown
victor's meed declaring?
Tread the path the Savior trod,
look upon the crown of God,
see what he is wearing.
This the King of heaven bore
in that sore contending;
this his sacred temples wore,
honor to it lending;
in this helm he faced the foe,
on the rood he laid him low,
Satan's kingdom ending.
Christ upon the Tree of Scorn,
in salvation's hour,
turned to gold these pricks of thorn
by his passion's power;
so on sinners, who had earned
endless death, from sin returned,
endless blessings shower.
When in death's embrace we lie,
then, good Lord, be near us;
with thy presence fortify,
and with victory cheer us;
turn our erring hearts to thee,
that we crowned for ay may be:
O good Jesus, hear us!