I sing my Saviour's wondrous death;

I sing my Saviour'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 heaven 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.