Text: | The Conquerors Song |
1 To thine almighty arm we owe
The triumphs of the day:
Thy terrors, Lord, confound the foe,
And melt their strength away.
2 'Tis by thy aid our troops prevail,
And break united powers,
Or burn their boasted fleets, or scale
The proudest of their towers.
3 How have we chas'd them through the field,
And trod them to the ground,
While thy salvation was our shield,
But they no shelter found!
4 In vain to idol saints they cry,
And perish in their blood;
Where is a rock so great so high,
So powerful as our God?
5 The God of Isr'el ever lives;
His name be ever blest;
'Tis his own arm the victory gives,
And gives his people rest.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | To thine almighty arm we owe |
Title: | The Conquerors Song |
Meter: | Com. Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1785 |
Scripture: | |
Notes: | Second Part |