O King of Glory! David’s Son! (Winkworth)

O King of Glo­ry! Da­vid’s Son!

Our sov­er­eign and our friend!

In Heav’n for­ev­er stands Thy throne

Thy king­dom hath no end:

Oh now to all men

far and near

Lord

make it known

we pray

That as in Heav’n all crea­tures here

May know Thee and ob­ey.

The east­ern sages glad­ly bring

Their tri­bute-gifts to Thee;

They wit­ness that Thou art their king

And hum­bly bow the knee;

To Thee the morn­ing star doth lead

To Thee th’in­spir­èd Word

We hail Thee

Sav­ior in our need

We wor­ship Thee

the Lord.

Ah look on me with pi­ty­ing grace

Though weak and poor I be

Within Thy king­dom grant a place

Secure and blest to me.

O res­cue me from all my woes

And shield me with Thine arm

From sin and death

the migh­ty foes

That dai­ly seek our harm.

And bid Thy Word

the fair­est star

Within us clear­ly shine;

Keep sin and all false doc­trine far

Since Thou hast claimed us Thine:

Let us Thy name aright con­fess

And with Thy Christ­en­dom

Our king and Sav­ior own and bless

Through all the world to come.