1 Hark, the glad sound, the Savior comes,
The Savior promis'd long!
Let ev'ry heart prepare a throne
And ev'ry voice a song.
2 On him the spirit, largely pour'd,
Exerts his sacred fire;
Wisdom, and might, and zeal, and love,
His holy breast inspire.
3 He comes the pris'ners to release,
In Satan's bondage held:
The gates of brass before him burst,
The iron fetters yield.
4 He comes, from the thickest films of vice
To clear the mental ray;
And on the eyes, oppress'd with night,
To pour celestial day.
5 He comes, the broken heart to bind,
The bleeding soul to cure,
And with the treasures of his grace,
T'enrich the humble poor.
6 Our glad hosannahs, Prince of peace!
Thy welcome shall proclaim;
And heav'ns eternal arches ring
With thy beloved name.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Hark, the glad sound, the Saviour comes |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1814 |
Topic: | Mission and Nativity of Christ |