Whose own right arm, in victory,
Led captive death, and spoiled the grave.
3 Lift up your heads, ye gates! and high
Your everlasting portals heave;
Welcome the King of glory nigh:
Him must the heaven of heavens receive.
4 Who is the King of glory—who?
The Lord of hosts; behold his name!
The kingdom, power, and honor due,
Yield him, ye saints, with glad acclaim!