Let hea­then rage, and kings com­bine,
But Je­sus reign­eth still;
O let us break His bonds, they say,
And cast His cords from us away.
Yet shall He reign in end­less day,
His throne is Zi­on’s hill.

Our God de­clares the firm de­cree,
My Son, this day art Thou;
O ask, and I shall give to Thee
The ut­most land by ev­ery sea;
The glo­ry of the earth shall be
A crown up­on Thy brow.

Thou, Christ, shalt rule with rod of pow­er,
Thy might with awe we see;
We kiss the hand that saves from woe,
And fol­low where Thy foot­steps go;
O bless­èd are the saints be­low,
Who put their trust in Thee.