His garments stained with his own blood, King Jesus, is his name.
The trumpet sounds, the armies shout, and drive the hosts of hell;
How dreadful is our God in arms! The great Immanuel!
Sinners, enlist with Jesus Christ, th’ eternal Son of God,
And march with us to Canaan’s land, beyond the swelling flood.
There is a green and flow’ry field, where fruits immortal grow;
There, clothed in white, the angels bright, our great Redeemer know.
We’ll shout and sing forever more in that eternal world;
But Satan and his armies too, shall down to hell be hurled.
Hold up your heads, ye soldiers bold, redemption’s drawing nigh,