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I sing my Savior’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 heav’n 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.