The Heavenly Conqueror

To Jesus, our victorious Lord,
The praises of our lives belong;
Forever be his name ador'd:
Sweet theme of ev'ry thankful song.

Lost in despair, beset with foes,
Undone, and perishing we lay;
His pity melted o'er our woes,
And sav'd the trembling, dying prey.

He fought, he conquer'd, though he fell,
"While with his last expiring breath,
He triumph'd o'er the pow'rs of hell,
And by his dying vanquish'd death.

Now on his Father's throne he reigns,
And all the tuneful choir above
Resound in high immortal strains,
The praises of victorious love.

Though still reviving foes arise,
Temptation, sin, and doubts appear,
And pain our hearts, and fill our eyes
With many a groan, and many a tear:

Still shall we fight, and still prevail,
In our almighty leader's name;
His strength, whene'er our spirits fail,
Shall all our active pow'rs inflame.

Immortal honours wait above,
To crown the dying conqu'ror's brow;
And endless peace, and joy, and love,
For the short war sustain'd below.

Exalted near their Saviour's seat,
His saints shall dwell, their dangers o'er.
And cast their crowns beneath his feet,
And love, and wonder, and adore.