"Now from the roaring lion's rage,

O Lord, protect thy Son,

Nor leave thy darling to engage

The powers of hell alone."

Thus did our suff'ring Savior pray,

With mighty cries and tears;

God heard him in that dreadful day,

And chased away his fears.

Great was the vict'ry of his death,

His throne exalted high;

And all the kindreds of the earth

Shall worship or shall die.

A num'rous offspring must arise

From his expiring groans;

They shall be reckoned in his eyes

For daughters and for sons.

The meek and humble souls shall see

His table richly spread;

And all that seek the Lord shall be

With joys immortal fed.

The isles shall know the righteousness

Of our incarnate God,

And nations yet unborn profess

Salvation in his blood.