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| 920 |
Sound ye the trumpet-call;
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| 1. | Sound ye the trumpet-call; |
| | Heralds proclaim |
| | Jesus as Lord of all, |
| | Sound forth His fame; |
| | Tell of His great renown, |
| | Lift high the kingly crown, |
| | Let every knee bow down |
| | At His blest name. |
| 2. | Who will go forth for Him? |
| | Who will arise? |
| | Though eyes with tears are dim, |
| | Severed love's ties: |
| | Counting all things but loss, |
| | Earth's highest gain but dross, |
| | And glorying in the cross, |
| | Who will arise? |
| 3. | Go, for the crowning day |
| | Draws ever near; |
| | Time will soon pass away, |
| | Jesus be here: |
| | Raise ye the cross where now |
| | Nations to idols bow; |
| | Dawn o'er the mountain's brow |
| | Tells He is near. |
| 4. | Hark to the trumpet-blast! |
| | Jesus is King! |
| | He comes to reign at last, |
| | All conquering: |
| | Then the wide world shall own, |
| | Bending before His throne, |
| | Jesus is Kind alone, |
| | Jesus is King! |