Jesus shall reign where’er the sun
Doth his successive journeys run;
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore,
Till moons shall wax and wane no more.
To Him shall endless prayer be made,
And praises throng to crown His head;
His Name like sweet perfume shall rise
With every morning sacrifice.
Blessings abound where’er He reigns:
The prisoner leaps to loose his chains,
The weary find eternal rest,
And all the sons of want are blest.
Let every creature rise and bring
Peculiar honours to the King;
Angels, descend with songs again
And, earth, repeat the loud Amen.—Isaac Watts (1674-1748)