The count­less mul­titudes on high,
Who 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 new song in that bless­èd 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 was 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!

While thus the ran­somed my­ri­ads shout,
Amen! the ho­ly an­gels cry—
Amen! Amen! re­sounds through­out
The bound­less re­gions of the sky.