THE COUNTLESS MULTITUDE ON HIGH

The countless multitude on high
That tune their songs to Jesus' Name,
All merit of their own deny,
And Jesus' worth alone proclaim.
Firm on the ground of sovereign grace,
They stand before Jehovah's throne;
The only song in that blest place
Is 'Thou art worthy! Thou alone!'

With spotless robes of purest white,
And branches of triumphal palm,
They shout, with transports of delight,
Heaven's ceaseless, universal psalm:
'Salvation's glory all be paid
To Him who sits upon the throne,
And to the Lamb whose blood was shed;
Thou! Thou art worthy! Thou alone.

'For Thou wast slain, and in Thy blood
These robes were washed so spotless pure;
Thou mad'st us kings and priests to God,
For ever let Thy praise endure.
Let us with joy adopt the strain
We soon shall sing for ever there:
'Worthy's the Lamb for sinners slain,
Worthy alone the crown to wear!'

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