Lamb of God, Thy right we own;
Worthy Thou, and Thou alone,
The mys­te­ri­ous book t’ex­plain
Teeming with the fates of man,
Thou shalt op­en ev­ery seal,
Every pro­phe­cy ful­fill.

Power exe­cu­tive is Thine:
Prodigal of blood di­vine,
Thou hast dear­ly bought Thine own,
Laid the pre­cious ran­som down,
Given by Thy Fa­ther’s grace,
Slain for all our help­less race.

We who in Thy death con­fide,
Conscious of Thy blood ap­plied,
Now the Gos­pel bless­ing prove,
Fruit of Thy red­eem­ing love,
Daily find in serv­ing Thee,
Love is per­fect li­ber­ty.

By the Spi­rit of Thy grace
Thy dis­ting­uished wit­ness­es,
Out of all the world­ly throng,
Every na­tion, tribe, and tongue,
Called, and se­pa­rat­ed for Thine,
Now we in Thine im­age shine.

Thou hast by Thy hal­low­ing blood
Consecrated us to God,
And we in the Ho­li­est Place,
Offer up our pray­er and praise,
Ceaseless Ab­ba, Fa­ther cry,
Kings and priests of the Most High.

Mightier joys or­dained to know,
When Thou com’st to reign be­low,
We shall at Thy side sit down,
Partners of Thy great white throne,
Kings a thou­sand years with Thee,
Kings thro’ all eter­ni­ty.