Lift up your heads, ye gates of brass

		

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				6.4.6.4.6.6.6.4.

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 King alone, Jesus is King!

						J.H. Stuart