When the great Builder arched the skies,

And formed all nature with a word,

The joyful cherubs tuned his praise,

And every bending throne adored.

High in the midst of all the throng,

Satan, a tall archangel, sat;

Amongst the morning stars he sung,

Till sin destroyed his heav'nly state.

['Twas sin that hurled him from his throne;

Grov'lling in fire the rebel lies:

"How art thou sunk in darkness down,

Son of the morning, from the skies!"]

And thus our two first parents stood,

Till sin defiled the happy place;

They lost their garden and their God,

And ruined all their unborn race.

[So sprung the plague from Adam's bower,

And spread destruction all abroad;

Sin, the cursed name, that in one hour

Spoiled six days' labor of a God!]

Tremble, my soul, and mourn for grief,

That such a foe should seize thy breast;

Fly to thy Lord for quick relief;

Oh may he slay this treach'rous guest!

Then to thy throne, victorious King,

Then to thy throne our shouts shall rise!

Thine everlasting arm we sing;

For sin, the monster, bleeds and dies.