Behold, the Lord to Zion Rides

Behold

the Lord to Zi­on rides

And crowds ho­san­nas sing;

They spread their gar­ments in the way

And hail Him as a king.

O Zi­on

blind with earth­ly pride

Why couldst thou not be­hold

The Christ of God

whom sage and seer

From age to age fore­told?

A king in­deed

but not to reign

By pow­er of earth­ly might;

The glo­ry of whose roy­al state

Is hid from car­nal sight.

Whose sub­jects are the souls of men

From thrall of dark­ness on;

Whose king­dom knows no bounds

with­in

The dawn and set­ting sun.

Behold thy king to Zi­on rides

Where He the cross shall bear;

And on that throne with blood be­decked

His robe of pur­ple wear;

Where slaves to sin His love shall view

And from their bond­age rise

To no­ble feal­ty

by the pow­er

Of lov­ing sac­ri­fice.