1 Hark the glad sound! the Saviour comes,
The Saviour 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 its 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 eye opprest with noight,
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' inrich 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.