4 And when oppress'd with pains and fears
On the cold ground he lies,
Behold a heavenly form appears
T' allay his agonies.]
5 Now to the hands of Christ our King
Are all their legions given;
They wait upon his saints, and bring
His chosen heirs to heaven.
6 Pleasure and praise run thro' their host
To see a sinner turn;
Then Satan has a captive lost,
And Christ a subject born.
7 But there's an hour of brighter joy,
When he his angels sends
Obstinate rebels to destroy,
And gather in his friends.
8 O! could I say, without a doubt,
There shall my soul be found,
Then let the great archangel shout,
And the last trumpet sound.
Hymn 2:114.
Christ's death, victory and dominion.
1 I sing my Saviour's wondrous death; He conquer'd when he fell: 'Tis finish'd, said his dying breath, And shook the gates of hell.
2 'Tis finish'd, our Immanuel cries,
The dreadful work is done;
Hence shall his sovereign throne arise,
His kingdom is begun.
3 His cross a sure foundation laid
For glory and renown,
When thro' the regions of the dead
He pass'd to reach the crown.
4 Exalted at his Father's side
Sits our victorious Lord;
To heaven and hell his hands divide
The vengeance or reward.