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Christ’s death, victory and dominion.

I sing my Saviour’s wondrous death;
He conquer’d when he fell:
‘Tis finish’d, said his dying breath,
And shook the gates of hell.

‘Tis finish’d, our Immanuel cries,
The dreadful work is done;
Hence shall his sovereign throne arise,
His kingdom is begun.

His cross a sure foundation laid
For glory and renown,
When thro’ the regions of the dead
He pass’d to reach the crown.

Exalted at his Father’s side
Sits our victorious Lord;
To heaven and hell his hands divide
The vengeance or reward.

The saints from his propitious eye
Await their several crowns,
And all the sons of darkness fly
The terror of his frowns.