Eternal Fa­ther, Thou hast said
That Christ all glo­ry shall ob­tain;
That He who once a suf­fer­er bled
Shall o’er the world a con­quer­or reign.

We wait Thy tri­umph, Sav­ior King,
Long ag­es have pre­pared Thy way;
Now all abroad Thy ban­ner fling,
Set time’s great bat­tle in ar­ray.

Thy hosts are mus­tered to the field;
The cross! the cross! the bat­tle call;
The old grim tow­ers of dark­ness yield,
And soon shall tot­ter to their fall.

On mount­ain tops the watch fires glow,
Where scat­tered wide the watch­men stand;
Voice ech­oes voice, and on­ward flow
The joy­ous shouts from land to land.

Oh, fill the Church with faith and pow­er!
Bid her long nights of weep­ing cease;
To groan­ing na­tions haste the hour
Of life and free­dom, light and peace.

Come, Spi­rit, make Thy won­ders known,
Fulfill the Fa­ther’s high de­cree;
Then earth, the might of hell o’er­thrown,
Shall keep her last great ju­bi­lee.