1 When the great Builder arch'd the skies,
And form'd all nature with a word,
The joyful cherubs tun'd his praise,
And every bending throne ador'd.
2 High in the midst of all the throng,
Satan, a tall archangel, sat,
Amongst the morning stars he sung
Till sin destroy'd his heavenly state.
3 ['Twas sin that hurl'd him from his throne,
Grov'ling in fire the rebel lies:
|How art thou sunk in darkness down,
|Son of the morning, from the skies!|
4 And thus our two first parents stood
Till sin defil'd the happy place
They lost their garden and their God,
And ruin'd all their unborn race.
5 [So sprung the plague from Adam's bower,
And spread destruction all abroad;
Sin, the curs'd name, that in one hour
Spoil'd six days labour of a God.]
6 Tremble, my soul, and mourn for grief,
That such a foe should seize thy breast;
Fly to thy Lord for quick relief;
O! may he slay this treacherous 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.
Job 38:7. Isaiah 14:12.