See from Be­tha­ny ad­vanc­ing
Joyful throngs by Je­sus led;
Loud ho­san­nas rend the heav­ens,
Garments rich His path­way spread;
Shout, ye saints! your tri­umph sing!
Blessèd is the com­ing King!

Now the sac­red gates are lift­ed,
Zion’s king is pass­ing through.
All the glo­ry of the ci­ty
And the tem­ple rise to view;
Zion, shout, your Sav­ior own,
David’s Son, on Da­vid’s throne!

King of peace, Je­ho­vah’s chos­en!
King with highest glo­ry crowned!
Honored by the hosts of Heav­en,
By the earth­ly Zi­on owned.
Take Thy scep­ter, rule the throng
Praising Thee with hal­lowed song!

Sad, ah, sad the change­ful mo­rrow,
Bitter scorn for ar­dent praise;
They who’d build a throne of glo­ry,
Now a cru­el cross up­raise.
Yet, O Zion, tri­umph sing!
Christ be­trayed is Sav­ior, king!

See! the tem­ple veil is rend­ing,
Mountains quake, the dead arise;
Darkness hides the day’s full glo­ry,
Lightnings fill the black­ened skies;
Still, O Zi­on, tri­umph sing!
Christ the ris­en Lord, is king.

From His low­ly tomb are roll­ing
Sealèd rock and mid­night gloom;
O’er the realm of death vic­tor­ious,
Christ, the ris­en Lord, has come.
Shout, ye ran­somed! prais­es sing,
Christ, the ris­en Lord, is king!