See the Old Dragon from His Throne

See the old dra­gon from his throne

Sink with enor­mous ru­in down!

Banished from Heav’n

and doomed to dwell

Deep in the fie­ry gloom of hell!

Ye heav’ns with all your hosts

re­joice:

Ye saints

in con­sort lend your voice;

Approach your Lord’s vic­tor­ious seat

And tread the foe be­neath your feet.

But whence a con­quest so di­vine

Gained by such fee­ble hands as mine?

Or whence can sin­ful mor­tals boast

O’er Sa­tan and his re­bel host?

’Twas from Thy blood

Thou slaugh­tered lamb

That all our palms and tri­umphs came;

Thy cross

thy spear in­flicts the stroke

By which the mon­ster’s head is broke.

Thy faith­ful Word our hope main­tains

Through all our com­bat and our pains;

The ac­cents of Thy heav’n­ly breath

Thy sol­diers bear through wounds and death.

Triumphant Lamb

in worlds un­known

With trans­port round Thy ra­di­ant throne

Thy hap­py le­gions

all com­plete

Shall lay their laur­els at Thy feet.