Sov’reign of Heav­en, Thine em­pire spreads,
O’er all the worlds on high:
And at Thy frowns th’in­fer­nal pow­ers
In wild con­fu­sion fly.

Like light­ning from his glit­ter­ing throne
The great arch-trai­tor fell,
Driv’n with enor­mous ru­in down
To in­fa­my and hell.

Permitted now to range at large,
And tra­verse earth and air,
O’er cap­tive hu­man souls he reigns,
And boasts his king­dom there.

Yet thence Thy grace can drive him out,
With one al­migh­ty word;
O send Thy po­tent scep­ter forth,
And reign vic­tor­ious, Lord.

Let wretch­ed pri­son­ers be re­leased,
The smil­ing light to view;
Nor let the van­quished foe re­turn
Their bond­age to renew.

May grace comp­lete that won­drous work,
Which Thine own pow­er be­gun;
And fill, from Sa­tan’s gloo­my realms,
The king­dom of Thy Son.