1 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!

2 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.

3 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?

4 ’Twas from Thy blood, Thou slaughtered lamb,
That all our palms and triumphs came;
The cross, thy spear inflicts the stroke,
By which the monster’s head is broke.

5 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.

6 Triumphant Lamb, in worlds unknown,
With transport round Thy radiant throne,
Thy happy legions, all complete,
Shall lay their laurels at Thy feet.