We love Thee, Lord, and we adore;
Now is Thine arm re­vealed:
Thou art our strength, our heav’n­ly tow­er,
Our bul­wark and our shield.

We fly to our eter­nal rock,
And find a sure de­fense;
His ho­ly name our lips in­voke,
And draw sal­va­tion thence.

When God, our lead­er, shines in arms,
What mor­tal heart can bear
The thun­der of His loud alarms,
The light­ning of His spear?

He rides up­on the wing­èd wind,
And an­gels in ar­ray
In mill­ions wait to know His mind,
And swift as flames ob­ey.

He speaks, and at His fierce re­buke
Whole ar­mies are dis­mayed;
His voice, His frown, His ang­ry look,
Strikes all their cour­age dead.

He forms our ge­ne­rals for the field,
With all their dread­ful skill;
Gives them His aw­ful sword to wield,
And makes their hearts of steel.

He arms our cap­tains to the fight,
Though there His name’s forgot;
He gird­ed Cy­rus with His might,
But Cy­rus knew Him not.

Oft has the Lord whole na­tions blest
For His own Church’s sake;
The pow­ers that give His peo­ple rest,
Shall of His care par­take.