220 | CM | ||
HARK! the glad sound, the Saviour comes, The Saviour promised long; Let every heart prepare a throne, And every voice a song. |
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2 | He comes, the prisoners to release In Satan’s bondage held: The gates of brass before Him burst, The iron fetters yield. |
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3 | He comes, from thickest films of vice To clear the mental ray, And on the darkness of the blind To pour celestial day. |
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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. |
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5 | Our glad hosannas, Prince of Peace, Thy welcome shall proclaim; And Heaven’s eternal arches ring With Thy belovèd name. |
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Philip Doddridge, 1702-51 |