He is coming, He is coming,
                                        
                                        Not in pain, and shame, and woe,
                                        
                                        With the thorn crown on His forehead,
                                        
                                        And the blood drops trickling slow;
                                        
                                        But with diadem upon Him,
                                        
                                        And the scepter in His hand,
                                        
                                        And the dead all ranged before Him,
                                        
                                        Raised from death, hell, sea and land.