Lord, when Thou didst as­cend on high,
Ten thou­sand an­gels filled the sky;
Those hea­ven­ly guards around Thee wait,
Like cha­ri­ots that at­tend Thy state.

Not Si­nai’s mount­ain could ap­pear
More glo­ri­ous when the Lord was there;
While He pro­nounced His dread­ful law,
And struck the chos­en tribes with awe.

How bright the tri­umph none can tell,
When the re­bel­lious pow­ers of hell,
That thou­sand souls had cap­tive made,
Were all in chains like cap­tives led.

Raised by His Fa­ther to the throne,
He sent the pro­mised Spir­it down
With gifts and grace for re­bel men
That God might dwell on earth again.