1 Behold with pleasing ecstasy
The Gospel standard lifted high,
That all the nations from afar
May in the great salvation share.

2 Why then, almighty Savior, why
Do wretched souls in millions die?
While wide th’infernal tyrant reigns
O’er spacious realms in ponderous chains?

3 And shall he still go on to boast
Thy cross its energy hath lost?
And shall Thy servants still complain
Their labors, and their tears are vain?

4 Awake, all conquering arm, awake,
And hell’s extensive empire shake;
Assert the honors of Thy throne,
And call this ruined world Thine own.

5 Thine all successful power display;
Produce a nation in a day;
For at Thy word this barren earth
Shall travail with a general birth.

6 Swift let Thy quickening Spirit breathe
On these abodes of sin and death;
That breath shall bow ten thousand minds,
Like waving corn before the winds.

7 Scarce can our glowing hearts endure
A world, where Thou art known more;
Transform it, Lord, by conquering love,
Or bear us to the realms above.