John Brownlie (trans.) · 23 of 130

II: Strew palms, strew palms upon the way

Strew palms, strew palms upon the way, With loud hosannas fill the air, And greet thy King Who comes to-day, To wear a crown, O Zion fair.

He mounts a throne with purple spread, That issues from His wounded side, And prickly thorns encrown His head, In mockery of His kingly pride.

O people, blinded are your eyes, The Gift of God you have not known; And now the hope of ages dies, And lo, the guilt is all your own.

Strew palms, strew palms, He comes again, A King to reign, and not to die; Hosannas shout in loud refrain, To rise re-echoing to the sky.

But, not enough, before Him fall, His kingly grace repenting claim; And He shall hear your humble call, Above the shouting and acclaim.

Strew palms, strew palms! O Christ our King, To Thee our fealty now we give, And all the grateful homage bring Of lives that for Thy service live.