Ye ser­vants of God, your mas­ter pro­claim,
And pub­lish abroad His won­der­ful name;
The name all vic­to­ri­ous of Je­sus ex­tol,
His kingd­om is glo­ri­ous and rules ov­er all.

The waves of the sea have lift­ed their voice,
Sore trou­bled that we in Je­sus re­joice;
The floods they are roar­ing, but Je­sus is here;
While we are ad­or­ing, He al­ways is near.

Men, de­vils en­gage, the bil­lows arise,
And hor­ri­bly rage, and threat­en the skies:
Their fu­ry shall ne­ver our stead­fast­ness shock,
The weak­est be­liev­er is built on a rock.

God rul­eth on high, al­migh­ty to save,
And still He is nigh, His pre­sence we have;
The great con­gre­ga­tion His tri­umph shall sing,
Ascribing sal­va­tion to Je­sus our king.

Salvation to God, who sits on the throne,
Let all cry aloud and hon­or the Son!
The prais­es of Je­sus the an­gels pro­claim,
Fall down on their faces and wor­ship the Lamb.

Then let us adore, and give Him His right,
All glo­ry and pow­er, and wis­dom and might;
All hon­or and bless­ing, with an­gels above,
And thanks ne­ver ceas­ing, and in­fi­nite love.