1 To thine almighty arm we owe The triumphs of the day Thy terrors, Lord, confound the foe, And melt their strength away.
2 'Tis by thine aid our troops prevail, And break united powers, Or burn their boasted fleets, or scale The proudest of their towers.
3 How have we chas'd them thro' the field, And trod them to the ground, While thy salvation was our shield, But they no shelter found!
4 In vain to idol-saints they cry, And perish in their blood; Where is a rock so great, so high, So powerful as our God?
5 The Rock of Israel ever lives, His name be ever blest; 'Tis his own arm the victory gives, And gives his people rest.
6 On kings that reign as David did, He pours his blessings down; Secures their honours to their seed, And well supports the crown.