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 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 hosannas, Prince of peace!
Thy welcome shall proclaim;
And heav'n's eternal arches ring
With thy beloved name.