Loud to the Prince of Heav’n
Your cheer­ful voic­es raise!
To Him your vows be giv’n,
And fill His courts with praise.
With con­scious worth, all clad in arms,
All bright in charms, He sal­lies forth.

Gird on Thy con­qu’ring sword,
Ascend Thy shin­ing car,
And march, al­migh­ty Lord,
To wage Thy ho­ly war.
Before His wheels, in glad sur­prise,
Ye val­leys, rise, and sink, ye hills.

Fair truth, and smil­ing love,
And in­jured right­eous­ness
In Thy bright re­ti­nue move,
And seek from Thee re­dress:
Thou in their cause shalt pros­per­ous ride,
And far and wide dis­pense Thy laws.

Before Thine aw­ful face
Shall foes in mill­ions fall,
The cap­tives of Thy grace,
That grace, which con­quers all.
The world shall know, great King of kings,
What won­drous things Thine arm can do.

Here to my will­ing soul
Bend Thy tri­um­phant way;
Here ev­ery foe con­trol,
And all Thy pow­er dis­play.
My heart, Thy throne, blest Je­sus, see
Bows low to Thee, to Thee alone.