1 O brothers, lift your voices,
Triumphant songs to raise;
Till heaven on high rejoices,
And earth is filled with praise:
Ten thousand hearts are bounding
With holy hopes and free;
The gospel trump is sounding,
The trump of Jubilee.

2 O Christian brothers, glorious
Shall be the conflict's close;
The cross hath been victorious,
And shall be o'er its foes:
Faith is our battle token;
Our Leader all controls;
Our trophies, fetters broken;
Our captives, ransomed souls.

3 Not unto us, Lord Jesus:
To Thee all praise be due,
Whose blood-bought mercy frees us,
Has freed our brethren too.
Not unto us: in glory
The angels catch the strain,
And cast their crowns before Thee
Exultingly again.

4 Great God of our salvation,
Thy presence we adore;
Praise, glory, adoration
Be Thine forevermore;
Still on in conflict pressing
On Thee Thy people call,
Thee King of kings confessing,
Thee crowning Lord of all.

Amen.