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Anne Steele

To Jesus, Our Victorious Lord

in Anne Steele Collection

LYRIC

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I. To Jesus, our victorious Lord,
The praises of our lives belong;
Forever be his name ador’d:
Sweet theme of ev’ry thankful song.

II. Lost in despair, beset with foes,
Undone, and perishing we lay;
His pity melted o’er our woes,
And sav’d the tremb’ling, dying prey.

III. He fought, he conquer’d tho’ he fell,
While with his last expiring breath,
He triumph’d o’er the pow’rs of hell,
And by his dying vanquish’d death.

IV. Now on his Father’s throne he reigns,
And all the tuneful choir above
Resound in high immortal strains,
The praises of victorious love.

V. Tho’ still reviving foes arise,
Temptations, sins, and doubts appear,
And pain our hearts, and fill our eyes
with many a groan, and many a tear:

VI. Still shall we fight, and still prevail,
In our almighty leader’s name;
His strength, whene’er our spirits fail,
Shall all our active pow’rs inflame.

VII. Immortal honours wait above,
To crown the dying conqu’ror’s brow;
And endless peace, and joy, and love,
For the short war sustain’d below.

VIII. Exalted near their Saviour’s seat,
His saints shall dwell, their dangers o’er,
And cast their crowns beneath his feet,
And love, and wonder, and adore.


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    Blessy Christlin

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      To Jesus, Our Victorious Lord

      I. To Jesus, our victorious Lord,
      The praises of our lives belong;
      Forever be his name ador’d:
      Sweet theme of ev’ry thankful song.

      II. Lost in despair, beset with foes,
      Undone, and perishing we lay;
      His pity melted o’er our woes,
      And sav’d the tremb’ling, dying prey.

      III. He fought, he conquer’d tho’ he fell,
      While with his last expiring breath,
      He triumph’d o’er the pow’rs of hell,
      And by his dying vanquish’d death.

      IV. Now on his Father’s throne he reigns,
      And all the tuneful choir above
      Resound in high immortal strains,
      The praises of victorious love.

      V. Tho’ still reviving foes arise,
      Temptations, sins, and doubts appear,
      And pain our hearts, and fill our eyes
      with many a groan, and many a tear:

      VI. Still shall we fight, and still prevail,
      In our almighty leader’s name;
      His strength, whene’er our spirits fail,
      Shall all our active pow’rs inflame.

      VII. Immortal honours wait above,
      To crown the dying conqu’ror’s brow;
      And endless peace, and joy, and love,
      For the short war sustain’d below.

      VIII. Exalted near their Saviour’s seat,
      His saints shall dwell, their dangers o’er,
      And cast their crowns beneath his feet,
      And love, and wonder, and adore.