God exalted Him to the highest place and gave Him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.@Philippians 2:9–11
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Edward Perronet (1726–1792)

Ed­ward Per­ro­net. The first stan­za ap­peared anon­y­mous­ly in The Gos­pel Mag­azine, No­vem­ber 1779. In Ap­ril 1780, the same mag­a­zine pub­lished eight ver­ses ti­tled, On the Re­sur­rec­tion, the Lord Is King. It re­sur­faced half a doz­en years lat­er, again anon­y­mous­ly, ac­com­pa­nied by an acros­tic po­em whose let­ters spelled out Ed­ward Per­ro­net.

Cor­o­na­tion Ol­iv­er Hol­den, Un­ion Har­mo­ny or Un­i­ver­sal Col­lec­tion of Sac­red Mu­sic (Bos­ton, Mas­sa­chu­setts: 1793) (🔊 pdf nwc). Hol­den, a car­pen­ter, had been help­ing with the re­con­struc­tion of Charles­town, Mas­sa­chu­setts, after the 1775 Bat­tle of Bun­ker Hill. He orig­in­al­ly wrote this tune to cel­e­brate his daugh­ter’s birth, but af­ter he dis­cov­ered Per­ro­net’s lyr­ics, it be­came linked to the words below.

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Oliver Holden (1765–1844)

Mr. Will­iam Rey­nolds, of Pe­or­ia, Il­li­nois, the well known Sun­day school work­er, tells the fol­low­ing, which he had from the lips of the mis­sion­a­ry him­self.

The mis­sion­ary, Rev. E. P. Scott, while la­bour­ing in In­dia, saw on the street one of the stran­gest look­ing hea­then his eyes had ev­er lit upon.

On in­qu­iry he found that he was a rep­re­sent­a­tive of one of the in­land tribes that lived away in the moun­tain dis­tricts and that came down once a year to trade.

Up­on fur­ther in­ves­ti­ga­tion he found that the Gos­pel had ne­ver been preached to them and that it was dan­ger­ous to ven­ture among them be­cause of their mur­der­ous ten­den­cies.

He was stirred with much de­sire to break un­to them the Bread of Life. He went to his lodg­ing-place, fell up­on his knees and plead­ed for Di­vine di­rec­tion. Aris­ing, he packed his val­ise, took his vi­o­lin with which he was ac­cus­tomed to sing, and his pil­grim staff, and started in the di­rec­tion of the Ma­ce­don­ian cry.

As he bade his fel­low mis­sion­ari­es fare­well, they said, We shall ne­ver see you again. It is ma­dness for you to go. For two days he tra­velled, scarc­ely meet­ing a hu­man be­ing, un­til at last he found him­self in the moun­tains sur­round­ed by a crowd of sav­ag­es.

Ev­ery spear was point­ed at his heart. Not know­ing of any oth­er re­source he tried the pow­er of sing­ing the name of Je­sus to them. Draw­ing forth his vi­o­lin he be­gan with closed eyes:

All hail the pow­er of Je­sus name! etc.

Afraid to open his eyes he sang on till the third verse, and while sing­ing this verse—

Let ev­ery kin­dred, ev­ery tribe, etc.—

he opened his eyes to see what they were go­ing to do, when, lo! the spears had dropped from their hands and the big tears were fall­ing from their eyes.

They af­ter­wards in­vit­ed him to their homes, an in­vi­ta­tion glad­ly ac­cept­ed. He spent two years and a half amongst them.

His la­bours were great­ly blessed, and he had so won up­on their af­fec­tions that when he was com­pelled to leave on ac­count of im­paired health for this coun­try, they fol­lowed him for thir­ty miles.

O mis­sion­a­ry, they said, come back to us again. He has gone back and there is la­bour­ing still.

Morrison, pp. 157–58

Note: Two de­cades la­ter, Scott’s wife wrote that the hymn played by the vi­o­lin­ist was Am I A Sol­dier of the Cross. See An Au­to­bi­og­ra­phy of An­na Kay Scott, M. D. (Chi­ca­go, Il­li­nois: An­na Kay Scott, 1917), pag­es 38–39. We do not know which ac­count is more ac­cur­ate.

All hail the power of Jesus’ name!
Let angels prostrate fall;
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown Him Lord of all.

Let highborn seraphs tune the lyre,
And as they tune it, fall
Before His face who tunes their choir,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Before His face who tunes their choir,
And crown Him Lord of all.

Crown Him, ye morning stars of light,
Who fixed this floating ball;
Now hail the strength of Israel’s might,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Now hail the strength of Israel’s might,
And crown Him Lord of all.

Crown Him, ye martyrs of your God,
Who from His altar call;
Extol the Stem of Jesse’s rod,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Extol the Stem of Jesse’s rod,
And crown Him Lord of all.

Ye seed of Israel’s chosen race,
Ye ransomed from the fall,
Hail Him who saves you by His grace,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Hail Him who saves you by His grace,
And crown Him Lord of all.

Hail Him, ye heirs of David’s line,
Whom David Lord did call,
The God incarnate, Man divine,
And crown Him Lord of all,
The God incarnate, Man divine,
And crown Him Lord of all.

Sinners, whose love can ne’er forget
The wormwood and the gall,
Go spread your trophies at His feet,
And crown Him Lord of all.
Go spread your trophies at His feet,
And crown Him Lord of all.

Let every tribe and every tongue
Before Him prostrate fall
And shout in universal song
The crownèd Lord of all.
And shout in universal song
The crownèd Lord of all.

O that, with yonder sacred throng,
We at His feet may fall,
Join in the everlasting song,
And crown Him Lord of all,
Join in the everlasting song,
And crown Him Lord of all!