1 Hosanna to the prince of Light,
That cloth'd himself in clay;
Enter'd the iron gates of death,
And tore the bars away!
2 Death is no more the King of dread,
Since our immanuel rose;
He took the tyrant's sting away,
And spoil'd our hellish foes.
3 See how the Conqu'ror mounts aloft,
And to his Father flies,
With scars of honour in his flesh
And triumph in his eyes.
4 There our exalted Saviour reigns,
And scatters blessings down;
Our Jesus fills the middle seat
Of the celestial throne.
5 [Raise your devotion, mortal tongues,
To reach his bless'd abode;
Sweet be the accents of your songs
To our incarnate God.
6 Bright Angels, strike your loudest strings,
Your sweetest voices raise;
Let heav'n and all created things,
Sound our Immanuel's praise.]
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Hosanna to the prince of Light |
Title: | The resurrection and ascension of Christ |
Meter: | C.M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1793 |