1 Lo, they come, the vic­tors! Banners are all furled;
For the cross of Je­sus conquered has the world.
Marching home in tri­umph, crowd the migh­ty thong,
One their thorn-crowned lead­er, one their vic­tor song.

Refrain:
In the high­est glo­ry, He from Hea­ven came;
Mighty to de­li­ver, shout aloud His name.

2 They have washed their rai­ment, shining, snowy white;
Clothed are they with glo­ry, as the sons of light.
Theirs the scars of bat­tle, when the fight was on;
Theirs the shout of tri­umph, now the day is won. [Refrain]

3 Up the steeps they’re throng­ing, to ce­les­ti­al heights;
Ah, what joys await them, what su­preme de­lights!
Theirs the wed­ding ban­quet, for re­fresh­ment spread;
Like great seas the cho­rus, by their voic­es sped. [Refrain]

4 To the Cap­tain’s roll call, all make an­swer, "Here!"
"Blessèd of My Fa­ther, in His name draw near."
This the pur­chased king­dom, this the vic­tor song;
The eter­nal cho­rus; pour its tide along. [Refrain]