I hear the accuser roar

I hear the accuser roar Of ills that I have done; I know them well, and thousands more; Jehovah findeth none.

Sin, Satan, Death, press near To harass and appal; Let but my risen Lord appear, Backward they go and fall.

Before, behind, around, They set their fierce array To fight and force me from my ground Along Immanuel's way.

I meet them face to face Through Jesus' conquest blest; March in the triumph of His grace Right onward to my rest.

There, in His book I bear A more than conq'ror's name, A soldier, son, and fellow-heir, Who fought and overcame.

His be the Victor's name Who fought our fight alone: Triumphant saints no honour claim, Their conquest was His own.

By weakness and defeat He won the meed and crown; Trod all our foes beneath His feet By being trodden down.

He hell in hell laid low; Made sin, He sin o'erthrew; Bowed to the grave, destroyed it so, And death, by dying, slew.

Bless, bless the Conq'ror slain! Slain in His victory! Who lived, who died, who lives again, For thee, His Church, for thee.