Arm of the Lord, awake, awake!
Put on Thy strength, the nations shake,
And let the world, adoring, see
Triumphs of mercy wrought by Thee.

Say to the heathen from Thy throne,
“I am Jehovah, God alone”;
Thy voice their idols shall confound,
And cast their altars to the ground.

No more let creature blood be spilt,
Vain sacrifice for human guilt!
But to each conscience be applied
The blood that flowed from Jesus’ side.

Let Zion’s time of favor come;
O bring the tribes of Israel home;
And let our wondering eyes behold
Gentiles and Jews in Jesus’ fold.

Almighty God, Thy grace proclaim
In every clime of every name;
Let adverse powers before Thee fall,
And crown the Savior Lord of all.

Arm of the Lord, awake, awake!
Thine own immortal strength put on!
With terror clothed, hell’s kingdom shake,
And cast Thy foes with fury down!

As in the ancient days appear!
The sacred annals speak Thy fame:
Be now omnipotently near,
To endless ages still the same.

Thy arm, Lord, is not shortened now,
It wants not now the power to save;
Still present with Thy people, Thou
Bear’st them through life’s disparted wave.

By death and hell pursued in vain,
To Thee the ransomed seed shall come,
Shouting their heavenly Zion gain,
And pass through death triumphant home.

The pain of life shall there be o’er,
The anguish and distracting care,
There sighing grief shall weep no more,
And sin shall never enter there.

Where pure, essential joy is found,
The Lord’s redeemed their heads shall raise,
With everlasting gladness crowned,
And filled with love, and lost in praise.