When the great Builder arched the skies,
And formed all nature with a word,
The joyful cherubs tuned his praise,
And every bending throne adored.

High in the midst of all the throng,
Satan, a tall archangel, sat;
Amongst the morning stars he sung,
Till sin destroyed his heav'nly state.

['Twas sin that hurled him from his throne;
Grov'lling in fire the rebel lies:
"How art thou sunk in darkness down,
Son of the morning, from the skies!"]

And thus our two first parents stood,
Till sin defiled the happy place;
They lost their garden and their God,
And ruined all their unborn race.

[So sprung the plague from Adam's bower,
And spread destruction all abroad;
Sin, the cursed name, that in one hour
Spoiled six days' labor of a God!]

Tremble, my soul, and mourn for grief,
That such a foe should seize thy breast;
Fly to thy Lord for quick relief;
Oh may he slay this treach'rous guest!

Then to thy throne, victorious King,
Then to thy throne our shouts shall rise!
Thine everlasting arm we sing;
For sin, the monster, bleeds and dies.