I Wear A Crown Invisible And Clear, And Go My Lifted Royal Way Apart Since You Have Crowned Me Softly In Your Heart With Love That Is Half Ardent, Half Austere; And As A Queen Disguised Might Pass Anear The Bitter Crowd That Barters In A Mart, Veiling Her Pride While Tears Of Pity Start, I Hide My Glory Thru A Jealous Fear. My Crown Shall Stay A Sweet And Secret Thing Kept Pure With Prayer At Evensong And Morn, And When You Come To Take It From My Head, I Shall Not Weep, Nor Will A Word Be Said, But I Shall Kneel Before You, Oh My King, And Bind My Brow Forever With A Thorn.