Eternal Mon­arch, King most high,
Whose blood hath brought re­demp­tion nigh,
By whom the death of Death was wrought,
And con­quer­ing grace’s bat­tle fought.

Ascending to the throne of might,
And seat­ed at the Fa­ther’s right,
All pow­er in Heav’n is Je­su’s own,
That here His man­hood had not known.

That so, in na­ture’s tri­ple frame,
Each heav’n­ly and each earth­ly name,
And things in hell’s abyss ab­horred,
May bend the knee and own Him Lord.

Yea, an­gels trem­ble when they see
How changed is our hu­ma­ni­ty;
That flesh hath purged what flesh had stained,
And God, the Flesh of God, hath reigned.

Be Thou our joy and strong de­fense,
Who art our fu­ture re­com­pense;
So shall the light that springs from Thee
Be ours through all eter­ni­ty.

O ris­en Christ, as­cend­ed Lord,
All praise to Thee let earth ac­cord,
Who art, while end­less ages run,
With Fa­ther and with Spi­rit One.