Behold the Royal Banners Stream

Behold, the royal banners stream
And on them shines the myst’ry of the Cross
Where in his flesh, stretched on the beam
The Master of all flesh was hung for us

Where, from his pure and guiltless hand
The blood flowed past the iron nails, to trace
In splintered wood a scarlet brand
The mark of our redemption and his grace

And driven hard, the cruel lance
Pierced through the spotless victim offered here
And from his heart, our crimes to cleanse
The Savior poured a crimson tide and clear

Thus did he take the law's reproach
And bore its curse, to hang upon a tree
Whose boughs, made holy by his touch
Were covered o’er with purple majesty

O blessed Tree, on which was laid
The ransom of the world, too great to tell
Whose weight the scales of justice swayed
And sinking to the grave, raised souls from hell

Your fragrant bark an incense spreads
More rich than myrrh, than nectar far more sweet
Your fruit, more fine than Eden, sheds
Aromas of a victory complete

Hail, altar high! Hail victim pure
Whose passion is our glory and our grace
Whose agonies brought forth our cure
When life bore death, and death to life gave place

O Cross of Christ, our hope, our light
Whose constant beacon neither dims nor faints
Blot out our guilt from heaven's sight
And multiply God's grace unto his saints