We sing the glo­ri­ous con­quest,
Before Da­mas­cus’ gate,
When Saul, the Church’s spoil­er,
Came breath­ing threats and hate;
The ra­ven­ing wolf rushed for­ward
Full ear­ly to the prey;
But lo! the Shep­herd met him,
And bound him fast to­day.

O glo­ry most ex­cell­ing
That smote across his path!
O light that pierced and blind­ed
The zea­lot in his wrath!
O voice that spake with­in him
The calm, re­prov­ing word!
O love that sought and held him
The bond­man of his Lord!

O Wis­dom or­der­ing all things
In or­der strong and sweet,
What nob­ler spoil was ev­er
Cast at the Vic­tor’s feet?
What wis­er mas­ter build­er
E’er wrought at Thine em­ploy
Than he, till now so fu­ri­ous
Thy build­ing to de­stroy?

Lord, teach thy Church the les­son,
Still in her dark­est hour
Of weak­ness and of dan­ger,
To trust Thy hid­den pow­er;
Thy grace by ways mys­te­ri­ous
The wrath of man can bind,
And in Thy bold­est foe­man
Thy chos­en saint can find.