Conqueror of Death
O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
1 Cor. 15:55
1 Dread conqueror! Destroyer of all,
Thou---the king who conquers every king
Thou---restrained by no wall
Thee a captive none shall bring
2 Swords 'gainst thine armor are shattered
Against thee can none prevail
At thy word are armies scattered
and all the emperor's might shall fail.
3 Before thee, Death, are all things laid low.
All that breathe, birds and beasts, and men
Become a feast for worm, raven, and crow.
Of all time, since Adam's fall, this hath been.
4 Of all that is in earth, thou art the undisputed ruler,
Ages change thee not, nor years hold sway.
To thy dominion there can be no challenger
None can escape from thee, though vainly seek a way.
5 Frail children of men, all before thee fall
Rosy-cheeked maidens and youths carefree
On emperor and slave descends the pall
Dread lord, who fells men as an axeman fells the tree!
6 O Death, long hast thou sat upon thy dark throne,
Thine armies bringing countless captives to thee,
While thy thanes, pale phantoms, go forth alone
To take of earth all that's best of light and beauty.
7 But look, O Death, from thy darkened hall
Look and behold, thy vanquisher is come
It is Him who comes to break thy thrall
He is of all the hopes of men the sum.
8 Mighty God in the form of man, He is come,
To be by friends betrayed, deliver'd to die, crucified
for the sins of man, which first bid thee welcome.
Upon Calvary, the world's Savior bled and died.
9 Horrid thy triumph, Death
The Savior is laid lifeless in the tomb
But in the garden, on the morn of the Sabbath
Thy chains are broken, spoken is thy doom
10 Though soldiers stood guard before
All thine armies could not hold Him
Though a stone sealed the door
Broken is thy power, so vast, fell, and grim
11 For the stone is rolled away,
The shroud is forsaken, the tomb is empty
For all thy might could not keep Him prey
Who is come to break thy curse, and set men free.
12 Thou art cast from thy throne, Death
For there is a Conqueror greater than thee,
Whom we shall see, when ceases our breath
For thy kingdom is consumed in the Savior's victory.
Copyright ©
Gracie Woodsinger
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