Hark, the glad sound! the Saviour comes!

The Saviour promised long!

Let every heart prepare a throne,

And every voice a song.

2 He comes, the prisoner to release

In Satan’s bondage held;

The gates of brass before him burst,

The iron fetters yield.

3 He comes, from thickest films of vice

To clear the mental ray,

And on the eyeballs of the blind

To pour celestial day.

4 He comes, the broken heart to bind,

The bleeding soul to cure,

And with the treasures of his grace

To enrich the humble poor.

5 Our glad hosannas, Prince of Peace,

The welcome shall proclaim,

And heaven’s eternal arches ring

With thy belovéd name.