At the name of Je­sus,
Every knee shall bow,
Every tongue con­fess Him
King of glo­ry now;
’Tis the Fa­ther’s plea­sure
We should call Him Lord,
Who from the be­gin­ning
Was the migh­ty Word.

Mighty and mys­te­ri­ous
In the high­est height,
God from ev­er­last­ing,
Very light of light:
In the Fa­ther’s bosom
With the Spi­rit blest,
Love, in love eter­nal,
Rest, in per­fect rest.

At His voice cre­ation
Sprang at once to sight,
All the an­gel faces,
All the hosts of light,
Thrones and wide do­min­ions,
Stars upon their way,
All the heav’n­ly or­ders,
In their great ar­ray.

Humbled for a sea­son,
To re­ceive a name
From the lips of sin­ners
Unto whom He came,
Faithfully He bore it,
Spotless to the last,
Brought it back vic­to­ri­ous
When from death He passed.

Bore it up tri­um­phant
With its hu­man light,
Through all ranks of crea­tures,
To the cen­tral height,
To the throne of God­head,
To the Fa­ther’s breast;
Filled it with the glo­ry
Of that per­fect rest.

Name Him, bro­thers, name Him,
With love strong as death
But with awe and won­der,
And with bat­ed breath!
He is God the Sav­ior,
He is Christ the Lord,
Ever to be wor­shipped,
Trusted and adored.

In your hearts en­throne Him;
There let Him sub­due
All that is not ho­ly,
All that is not true;
Crown Him as your cap­tain
In temp­ta­tion’s hour;
Let His will en­fold you
In its light and pow­er.

Brothers, this Lord Je­sus
Shall re­turn again,
With His Fa­ther’s glo­ry,
With His an­gel train;
For all wreaths of em­pire
Meet up­on His brow,
And our hearts con­fess Him
King of glo­ry now.