Along the path where palms and garments lay,
The King of kings upon a donkey rides;
No trumpets blare, no armies clear the way,
Yet heaven’s host within the chorus hides.

“Blessed is He who comes in God’s own name!”
The shouting throng with joyful voices ring;
“Peace in the highest!”—thus they praise His claim,
While stones prepare their silent song to sing.

He comes not robed in pride or clad in gold,
But meek and lowly, bearing heaven’s peace;
The Son of David, long by prophets told,
Whose reign begins where earthly empires cease.

Triumphant King whose glory fills the skies,
Thy victory o’er death and hell arise!