I sing my Savior's wondrous death,

He conquered when he fell:

"'Tis finished!" said his dying breath,

And shook the gates of hell.

"'Tis finished!" our Immanuel cries,

The dreadful work is done;

Hence shall his sovereign throne arise,

His kingdom is begun.

His cross a sure foundation laid

For glory and renown,

When through the regions of the dead

He passed to reach the crown.

Exalted at his Father's side

Sits our victorious Lord;

To heav'n and hell his hands divide

The vengeance or reward.

The saints, from his propitious eye,

Await their several crowns

And all the sons of darkness fly

The terror of his frowns.