The pow­ers of earth and hell com­bine
With Je­sus war to wage;
God laughs to scorn their mad de­sign,
And foils their im­pi­ous rage.

Vain are the bru­tal pains they spend
His pur­pose to de­feat;
Their wrongs and in­sults on­ly tend
His con­quests to com­plete.

He tri­umphed on the ac­curs­èd tree,
He burst the guard­ed grave;
Then rose on high, by God’s de­cree,
The world to sway and save.

Kings of the earth, your mon­arch learn;
O kiss the Son of God;
Nor bid His gold­en scep­ter turn
Into an ir­on rod.